


E/R

by valarmorghulis



Series: E/R [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Artist Grantaire, F/M, Les Mis AU, London, M/M, Politician Enjolras, Smut, Three Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valarmorghulis/pseuds/valarmorghulis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place in the UK, three years after Grantaire and Enjolras decide that parting ways and ending their two year relationship is what is best for them both. Or at least that is what they both thought the other felt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Art Gallery

**Author's Note:**

> My first E/R story, couldn't come up with a title. Despite having read quite a few of these I hope this has a different touch to it. Also I have never written M/M smut before, so bare with me. I didn't expect it to happen in the first chapter, but they kind of have their own life. Enjoy! 
> 
> Also, I am not a native english speaker, and I don't use a beta, so please excuse any mistakes :)

”Come on R! We’re going to be late for YOUR showing!” Eponine sighed and shook her head slightly when she only got a grunt from the other side of the door as a response. 

”Go without me.” Grantaire was laying face down on his bed, clutching a bottle of cheap red wine, almost drained even though he only opened it fifteen minutes ago. That was when he had decided he couldn’t go to his own art opening. 

”No, that is not an option and you know it. Get your lazy bum out here before I break this door down and drag you out!” Eponine had spent the first ten of those fifteen minutes flipping through bad TV and waiting for Grantaire to re-emerge from his hole of despair, but when he hadn’t, she had gone to get him. 

She heard a low clunk from inside the room, what she assumed was a bottle being dropped on the floor. A few seconds past before the lock was turned and a disheveled Grantaire opened the door. He still wasn’t in his neatly pressed suit, it still hung in its bag next to the bed. 

”I might need some help tying that godawful tie you are going to make me wear.” 

Another ten minutes later and he was finally dressed, only his unruly hair left to tame. Eponine forced a gum into his mouth before fetching a brush. His hair was smooth and soft but stood in all directions and would not lay down no matter what she used to persuade it. Finally she gave up and Grantare gave a sigh of relief. “Alright lets go to this shindig then, but don’t expect me to be all “meety greety” with people.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but it is an anonymous showing you know, no one will know which paintings are yours until the signings at the end, and then someone will have already bought them.” 

“In your fantasyland maybe, in reality I might sell one of I’m lucky.” 

“They wouldn’t be showing your work if it wasn’t any good.” 

“I’m not saying it’s not good, I’m just saying I don’t think the suit and tie kind of people going to these big fancy things will appreciate my…artistry.” 

“I have no doubt that they will surprise you.” 

There was a tentative knock on the door, and when Eponine opened it, Jehan was outside with a beautiful bouquet of early spring flowers. He could see right away that Grantaire was incredibly nervous, so he set the flowers down and walked right up to him for a big and long hug. 

The poet was neither slight nor large in build, but he could easily command the attention of a room and turn into a soft comforter all the same. Grantaire was happy to have his one other artistic friend there, someone who could understand the nervousness and horror he felt at having others value and judge the work he had poured his heart and soul into. 

“I bet seeing ‘Parnasse dressed up tonight will get you into a better mood.” Jehan teased, but it got his attention. “If he shows up, that is.” Grantaire didn’t want to have too high hopes, they had only been seeing each other casually for a couple of weeks, and going to a gallery wasn’t really Montparnasse’s idea of a good time. 

“He’ll show, he really likes you, I can tell with these sort of things.” 

“Sure you can, anyway we should leave now then if you are really making me go.”

The three of them headed down to Grantaire’s car, but Eponine took the keys form his hand, and pointing to the passenger side. “You don’t drive when you’ve had something to drink, even if you think it makes you more observant.”

“Whatever, let’s go.” 

 

“You do realise one can purchase everything one needs to furnish a flat online these days right?”

“You can’t get a sense of the art properly online, Enjolras. You have to see the texture, feel the emotion, the history that went into the pieces.” 

“But you don’t even know who painted the pieces at this place, it’s totally anonymous.” 

“You’re such a snob sometimes. The anonymous part is why it is fun, you get a feeling from the painting, not because who painted it and when, but because of what it is. Also, you don’t get to judge the painter’s hairstyle or choice of clothing until after you’ve bought his stuff.” 

“Combeferre, do you agree with this?”

“Yep.” Combeferre was lying on the sofa with a book, but he wasn’t getting anywhere because watching his two best friends argue over the merits of art was far more interesting.

“You always take his side, you’re supposed to take my side at least half the times.” 

Courfeyrac raised his right eyebrow at Enjolras, who just sighed. “Fine, I seem to have been outvoted. But if we don’t find anything I’m buying it online.” 

“Then at least you will have tried to let your feelings rule a decision for once.” 

“Oh it won’t be feelings, it will be an evaluation of quality and aesthetics.” 

 

Cosette wasn’t nervous. No, it’s not like this is the first big event she’s been left in charge of. Alone. Well not alone, but she was in charge all right, she was the boss, anything that goes wrong tonight is on her head. 

The gallery looked perfect. The walls were tastefully decorated with a mix of works; no same artist had two paintings hanging next to each other. She wanted people to move around, see everything and not just stay put in a room they felt comfortable in. 

She went out into the kitchen area to check on the servers. There was champagne for probably double the amount of people who were going to show up, or even fit in the gallery. The Hors-d'œuvres looked tasteful in more ways than one, and she was beginning to relax. 

”You’ve got this Cosette.” She mumbled to herself. 

Bahorel came back from his final check of all the rooms, giving her an all clear and two thumbs up. ”It’s all good little lark, we’ve got this.” 

”I know, just, what if something goes wrong, Javert is going to fire me on the spot.” 

”Oh please, he will not, you’re his prodigy, you have nothing to worry about.” 

There was a slight knock on the half open kitchen door and Cosette’s father popped his head in. ”A good luck kiss for my darling girl before the big night?” He smiled warmly and kissed Cosette on the cheek and giving her a warm hug. ”Thanks dad, I needed that.”

”Hello Mr. Valjean!” Bahorel greeted him with a handshake and a pat on the shoulder. ”I told you to call me Jean, Bahorel.” 

”I’ll try my best.” Bahorel held Jean Valjean in high esteem. He came in to the gallery everyday to see his daughter and bring her lunch he had made himself. The retired barrister spent his retirement reading books and spoiling his daughter, and getting to know all her friends was high priority for him. 

Bahorel had worked in the gallery for about six months, and was well liked for his humour and easy way, even if he wasn’t the most responsible person around, he still took his job very seriously. Cosette had been hired a couple of months before him, and it would probably be a while before Mr. Javert gave him the responsibility he gave to Cosette. 

“People will be arriving soon, are you staying for the exhibition papa?”   
“No darling, I have a card game with a few friends, but I wish you both all the luck!” 

He gave Cosette another peck on the cheek before leaving. “I just love your dad, he’s so great.” Bahorel’s own parents didn’t really approve of him not becoming a doctor or a lawyer, and would most definitely not be bringing him lunch to his lowly workplace. 

 

The gallery had been open for about an hour, and it was packed. A lot of people seem to have an interest in the theme Cosette had come up with; Anonymous. 

There were pieces from fifteen artists, ranging from one to five paintings each. All had different styles and the inspiration ranged from early Italian Renaissance to modern impressionism, realism and they even showcased a few installations. 

Grantaire had four paintings in the exhibition. He had become good friends with Cosette after she had noticed his work at another show, where his was only one of many paintings. Ever since then she had tried to get his work shown at the Musain, the art gallery she now worked at. 

Javert, the owner, had very specific tastes and ruled with an iron fist until he had hired Cosette, who had no qualms over suggesting her own preferences. Grantaire’s works had been shown three times before at the Musain, but only smaller shows, and he occasionally had a painting hanging there during regular business hours. This was something entirely different. 

Grantaire moved around the rooms, careful not to listen to what people were saying as he passed his own works. Eponine and Jehan had claimed ownership of a sofa after making the first turn about the place. There they scrutinised the people and the art, only stopping to flag down a waiter or waitress to get another glass of champagne. 

Luckily for him, as Grantaire wasn’t very comfortable in big crowds, there was a back room meant for the artists, their friends and family and a few select others to spend time in, talking and socializing on a smaller scale. He knew a few of the other artists and soon struck up conversation with them about their pieces and discussing methods of painting and sculpting. 

As a fairly new MP, Enjolras didn’t think he’d get a lot of attention at a function such as this, but he had only been there for ten minutes and he could feel the glaces and hear the whispers around him. He greeted the few people that he knew, but other than that, kept with Combeferre or Courfeyrac. 

 

Combeferre took the opportunity to speak with Courfeyrac alone when Enjolras visited the restrooms. 

“I saw Eponine in the third room.” He hurriedly whispered to his friend. 

“Eponine? I didn’t know she was into art…oh.” Realisation dawned on him why Eponine would be there, because of Grantaire.   
“Yeah, OH! We might have been a bit hasty in dragging Enjolras to an anonymous exhibition.” 

“We couldn’t have guessed that R would have a piece here. Have you seen him?”

“No not yet, but we should probably make sure that Enjolras doesn’t. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to put up with a crying and moody E for a second longer than I have to.” 

“You don’t really think there would be crying, do you? It’s been three years since they broke up.” 

“And how many relationships has he had since then?” 

“Yeah none I know, but come on, crying? No I don’t think it would be so bad, maybe they could finally be just friends, or simply acquaintances.” Courfeyrac knew he was grasping at straws, but Enjolras had already bought two paintings, and he was going to wait until the revelation of the artists to have them signed. They would be here for a while more, and Grantaire could show his face any second. 

Combeferre simply gave him a look, and Courfeyrac nodded; it wouldn’t be simple at all. 

 

 

When Grantaire had gone out for a smoke, he had found Montparnasse doing the same in the alleyway next to the gallery. 

“Hey, ‘Parnasse, I’m glad you came!” For the first time that evening, Grantaire didn’t feel alone. ‘Ponine and Jehan were inside but they couldn’t offer the same kind of companionship that he was hoping Montparnasse would be able to.

“R…wow” He let out a low whistle. “You look smokin’ hot, man.” 

“Thanks, hey, pass that joint would you, I need to take the edge off.” 

“Tough crowd?” 

“Nah, they seem properly impressed, and apparently, three of my pieces have sold already. I’ve just been stressed over nothing it seems.” 

“Well hey, maybe later you’ll come by my place and we can unwind together, huh?” 

“I was hoping you’d come in with me, distract me from the boring stiffs in there.” 

“I don’t know…crowds like that isn’t really my thing…”

“Please, I’ll thank you for it properly later…” He flashed ‘Parnasse a suggestive smile and leaned in to suck slightly on the skin where his pulse was throbbing. Montparnasse let out a deep, throaty sigh and leaned into Grantaire. “I have lube in my bag…”He whispered, “ever done it against the wall in an alley?” Grantaire knew he had to go back in there and look somewhat presentable, but he was already hard and ‘Parnasse was rubbing his thigh against him in the most delightful manner. 

“Ah…man this will wrinkle my suit.” He complained jokingly as he unzipped Montparnasse’s pants. 

Montparnasse didn’t wait for any other response. He roughly turned Grantaire around and pressed him with his front against the black alley-wall of the gallery. Soon both their pants were around their ankles and Grantaire felt the cool lube against his ass when ‘Parnasse pressed a finger inside him, then two, and three. 

Grantaire gasped as he hit that spot over and over, curling his fingers and pumping in and out. Suddenly, Grantaire was empty and his body was aching for more, but he didn’t have to wait long. Montparnasse lined up and pushed into Grantaire with too much force for it to be properly pleasurable for the fucked. He didn’t complain though, ‘Parnasse reached around and pumped Grantaires cock in rhythm with his own thrusts, and with a final bite to his neck, Grantaire cried out as he came, taking a few more hard and rough thrusts from his lover before he too, emptied into his ass. 

They both leaned against each other, supported by the wall, and panting for a while before cleaning off with a rag that Montparnasse had in is bag as well. 

“Well R, I had a feeling you liked it a bit rough and dirty.” 

“With you, yes I do.” But he had never done it like that before, with E…with others, he had been less of an exhibitionist, and had never done it outside. He usually liked to take his time to appreciate his partner’s body, like a work of art, and a quick fuck had never quite done it for him. Unless it was in the heat of the moment, in the middle of an argument kind of thing, like it had often been with…well. That was a long time ago. 

They got their clothes back on, straightened ties and smoothed out wrinkles before heading in again. 

When they got inside, Eponine and Jehan met them. “Where have you been?” Eponine hissed, “Cosette is about to announce the artists, you have to get in there and sign your paintings when she calls you. All four has sold.”

“Really? Wow, I can finally get some decent wine!” 

“You joke, but you’ve made quite a bit of money tonight.” 

“Congratulations R,” Montparnasse whispered in his ear and tugged a little on the earlobe with his teeth. 

“Thanks, well I better get in there.” 

“We’re coming too!”

The four of them made their way into the room just as Cosette announced the next artist to have sold her works. Her paintings were brought forward and she signed them in front of the crowd, and then shook hands with the new owners. 

The next artist called was Grantaire. He made his way to the front of the crowd with ‘Parnasse trailing behind him, holding his hand. 

 

When Enjolras heard the name of the next artist being called he hardly believed his ears. 

Grantaire. 

He was the only human being who had ever managed to snake his way under Enjolras’ skin. He was the only man to ever enter his heart, and the only man to ever break it. 

What was he doing in London? How…when did he get here? Did he live here now? Was he only there for the show, or what? He saw the dark haired man walk up to the blonde curator and kiss her on the cheek. He gave a small wave to the crowd as a hello before turning to the paintings being brought in. There was another man with him, holding his hand. 

The man was slender and beautiful, although darker than Grantaire and with sharper edges, he wasn’t what Enjolras had imagined Grantaire would go for. 

Enjolras had bought three of Grantaires paintings. They had really spoken to him when he saw them, and now he knew why. He had seen so many of Grantaire’s paintings before, old ones already finished when they met and new ones he had painted when they were together. These must be even newer, ones painted after. Of course he would be drawn to the familiarity of them, yet there was something he hadn’t seen before, a different kind of feeling. 

He turned to Combeferre with a deadly glare. “Did you know about this?” 

“No.” Was the short answer. He hadn’t known per se, especially not before they got here and he had only guessed after seeing Eponine. 

“What about you?” He was now speaking to Courfeyrac, another “no” from him. 

“I can’t stay here, let’s go.” 

“You’re supposed to greet the artist.” 

“He hasn’t seen me yet, he doesn’t have to. Not that he would care, but still, I don’t want to…” Then their eyes locked. 

Grantaire didn’t move a muscle as he caught sight of Apollo, the fire that had burnt him one too many times. Did he? Yes, he was coming over. Oh, he had bought the paintings, they would have to greet each other or everyone else would notice something was off. 

Grantaire was still fixed in one spot, still clutching Montparnasse’s hand, still eyes locked on Enjolras’. 

When the blonde man was within handshake-distance, Grantaire let go of ‘Parnasse. 

“Enjolras.” He called him Enjolras, not Apollo, not Antinous, not Orestes. Just Enjolras. 

“Grantaire.” Their hands clasped briefly, Grantaire let go first like he had been bitten. 

The signing was finished, and Grantaire plastered on a fake smile for the crowd. “Enjoy the paintings.” 

“Thank you.” Enjolras turned and left, Combeferre and Courfeyrac trailing behind him.


	2. Scenarios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras goes to pick up his paintings, but leaves empty handed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little more E/R in this, and introducing the rest of the characters, so it might not flow so well, but I hope you like it nonetheless. 
> 
> Leave comments to let me know what you think! :)

Enjolras had imagined at least a hundred scenarios in his mind where he met Grantaire again, and all of them went considerably better than what had happened in real life. In some of them there had been crying, yelling, punching, kissing, fucking, but in none of them had there been such icy coldness. 

Maybe because they had been in a public setting, all eyes on them, and taken by surprise. Or maybe Grantaire really did despise him. Either way, it was over now, and he wouldn’t have to see him again. 

 

Grantaire went home with Montparnasse that evening. First they went out to a club and got both pissed and high. When Grantaire woke up the next day he felt like crap, and probably looked it as well. He glanced at the bedside alarmclock and squinted to make out the numbers, 11:30. He was supposed to be at the Musain at 12 to pick up his check for the paintings, crap. 

At 12:20 he stumbled through the doors of the gallery, wearing ragged jeans, a t-shirt that had seen better days and beanie pulled over his unruly hair. The pilot-style sunglasses perched on his nose completed the look of just having rolled out of bed. 

Cosette regarded him form behind her desk in the reception area of the Musain. “Rough morning?”

“Rough everything…” He muttered, sitting down opposite her and leaning over on the desk, head resting on his arms. 

“Aw, well your check should make you happier.”

“Yeah, how much did I make?” 

“Oh, only about 4000 pounds.”

“Four…what?”

“Yes, they were quite popular.” 

Enjolras must have outbid someone, but he didn’t need the charity of a politician. But then again, he hadn’t known the paintings were Grantaires, so maybe he simply liked them. 

The door chimed and Cosette beamed at the person arriving. “Enjolras! Lovely to see you again! Come to pick up your art?” 

“Hello Cosette, yes I figured I should get on with the decorating, it won’t get done by itself.” He kissed her on both cheeks, and then he noticed Grantaire. 

Cosette made introductions again. “You two met briefly yesterday, Grantaire, you remember Enjolras, yes?” 

Grantaire stood to face the god before him. He was a little older, a little sharper, very short blonde stubble accenting his face, matching the colour of his sandy blonde hair. 

“Yeah, we’ve met before.” Grantaire muttered. 

“Grantaire…” Enjolras began, but Grantaire turned to Cosette. “My check? I have somewhere I need to be.” 

Cosette was confused by how both men acted, but didn’t say anything. She got the check out of the safe and handed it over to R. 

“Thanks little lark,” he kissed her cheek and walked out, not a second glance at Enjolras. 

 

“Stop! Grantaire, wait!”

Grantaire hadn’t made it very far down the sidewalk of the street where the Musain was located. Enjolras was running to catch up with him; he could hear the steps coming closer. 

He spun around and Enjolras crashed straight into him. Enjolras steadied himself with a firm grip on Grantaire’s upper arm and shoulder. “Damnit Grantaire, why are you acting like this?” 

“Acting like what?”

“Like this, it’s been three years since I’ve seen you and you won’t even look at me.” 

“I don’t know why you care where I look. Like you say, it’s been three years, Mr. MP, not nearly long enough for me to wish to look at you again.” 

“I just…how are you?” 

“How am I? I’m great, dandy! I already know how you are, hotshot politician, probably married with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence.” 

“What, no I’m not married! Why would you think that?” 

“Well why not?”

“Why wouldn’t you think that or why am I not married?” 

“Both, either, none, I don’t care. Look, I have somewhere to be.”

“Your boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, my…boyfriend.” 

“Right, I won’t keep you any longer, goodbye Grantaire, have a good life.” 

“Yeah…bye.”

Grantaire didn’t go back to Montparnasse, instead in wandered around a park, sat on a bench for what felt like hours, until Eponine called. 

“Hey, where are you?”

“In a park, went to get my check.” 

“Oh good, well nice of you to let me know you’re alive.”

“Sorry ‘Ponine, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. I just got a call from Combeferre.” 

“Oh, what did he say?” 

“Just checking in, he saw us at the Musain yesterday, and wondered why we hadn’t let him know we live in London now.” 

“It’s none of their business where we live, is it?”

“We all used to be friends, R.”

“Yeah, used to be.” 

“Look, you and Enjolras breaking up, it splintered the group, but Combeferre and Courfeyrac would like to get together with us again, to catch up.” 

“Will he be there?”

“I don’t know, but even if he is, does it matter? It’s been so long, aren’t you over him?”

“Of course I am, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend time with him.”

“Well it wouldn’t be just him, but all of us, you, me, Jehan, Courf, ‘Ferre, you could bring Cosette and Bahorel, apparently Joly, Feuilly and Bousset are in town looking for a place as well, and ‘Ferre mentioned some friend of theirs, Marius. 

“It’ll be a proper gathering then huh.”

“Yes, so stop sulking and come over to help me set stuff up, they are coming to our flat tonight.” 

Grantaire groaned. But he would take Eponine’s advice and invite Cosette and Bahorel, then at least he could talk to them instead of his old friends. And he would give Montparnasse a call, maybe he could distract Grantaire from thinking of Enjolras. 

 

The evening came and the three musketeers arrived first, Joly, Feully and Bousset. 

Joly had gotten a job at a London hospital a month ago, and Bousset wasn’t about to let him just move away alone. Feuilly, being the last of the Amis left in their hometown, had gotten inspired to leave as well, and they had all decided to find a flat together in the big city. 

Grantaire and Eponine had decided to move out to pursue Grantaire’s art, while Eponine went back to university to finish her degree. Working as a real estate agent now, she and the musketeers had a lot to talk about. 

Jehan had always just been there since they got to London, and now he lived just next door. 

Next to arrive was Cosette and Bahorel, shortly followed by Montparnasse. 

Grantaire and Montparnasse disappeard for about twenty minutes, but the only one who really noticed was Joly. He glanced around to see if anyone else noticed the disappearance, but no one seemed to. 

Then the last of the group arrived, Combeferre and Courfeyrac entered first, and soon after, Enjolras came in followed by Marius. 

They all went about the room greeting and hugging and laughing. Enjolras noticed right away that Grantaire wasn’t there. He sent a questioning look to Eponine who just looked down and shook her head slightly. 

Just then Grantaire re-appeared from his room, followed by Montparnasse who was constantly touching Grantaire’s waist, hand, arm, neck…it made Enjolras feel sick. 

Grantaire looked happier and happier as the evening went on. It might also have been because he consumed more and more alcohol, but the friends were definitely a plus. It was good catching up with them all again. All except one, he had been able to dodge Enjolras all evening, and having ‘Parnasse close seemed to help. 

When Enjolras saw Grantaire making his way down the hall to the bathroom, he took his chance and went after him. Grantaire was just about to close the door behind him when Enjolras put his foot in the opening and went in after him. 

“What are you doing? Following me to the bathroom? That’s creepy!”

“It’s not ‘creepy’ as you put it, I just want to have some time alone with you.” 

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want this tension, this avoidance that has been going on since we met yesterday.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s all in your head.” 

“I don’t think so, you’ve had that man draped all over you all evening, not even making eye contact with me once!” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“YES!” Shit, that wasn’t meant to come out. 

“Well tough! You left me, I have someone else now, deal with it!” 

Enjolras stopped for a moment. “What did you say?”

“I said, deal with it!”

“No, you said I left you, I didn’t leave you!” 

“I’m not having this conversation in a bathroom at midnight, in fact, I’m not having this conversation period! I’m going to do what I came here to do and then I am going back out to my boyfriend, and then we are going up to my room to have sex. You can either stay or leave, but don’t fucking speak to me again!” 

Enjolras left without another word. Grantaire could hear him say something to someone else and then the door slammed shut behind him as he left the flat. 

 

Jehan had noticed Eponine’s and Grantaire’s hot friend right away. He was sex on a stick and Jehan wanted to write sonnet after sonnet about his eyes, his muscles and his hair, oh god the hair. 

He didn’t even care if Courfeyrac wasn’t single, or gay for that matter, Jehan wanted him badly. 

 

Courf noticed the strawberry blonde boy, or man, but he looked very young, as he watched him from across the room. His name was Jean or something like that, and he shifted his attentions from Eponine to Cosette and back to Eponine, talking energetically about something. 

Courfeyrac would normally have his attention on the blonde girl, but she was deep in conversation with Marius, when Jehan wasn’t kidnapping her attention. Courf didn’t normally go for guys, but this boy was very beautiful, he thought. 

 

Marius was shy and didn’t really talk to the others, but then he noticed Cosette, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was angelic, perfect. She seemed to have noticed him as well, and when she was speaking to any of the others, she stole glances in his direction. 

“Marius, right?” She turned to him when Jehan let her go and returned to watching Courfeyrac. 

“Yeah, um, hi Cosette.”

“So, what do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a lawyer.” Then he remembered himself, “and you?” 

“I curate an art gallery, we just had a show last night, Grantaire sold four pieces.” 

“Yeah, yes I heard, how nice!” 

Marius felt incredibly awkward, but Cosette kept talking and soon the conversation was flowing.

It didn’t stop until Enjolras came storming into the room, grabbing his coat and saying a hurried goodbye before leaving. Everyone was silent for a few seconds after the door closed, and then resumed conversations. 

Grantaire didn’t return to the gathered friends that night.


	3. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has movienight, but not everyone is enjoying the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of Jehan/Courf withdrawal, but it has some angsty E/R as well ;)

The days went by, as before, the only difference now was that Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Marius were a part of those days. The group usually hung out in the evenings at one or the others apartments. Sometimes a portion of them would meet for lunch or just hang out. Enjolras only came if he was assured that Grantaire would not. Grantaire made excuses not to join them if Apollo would grace them with his presence, he would paint, work or spend the night at Montparnasse’s. 

If the others cared or were curious about their obvious avoidance of each other, they did not comment, until one day. 

“Enough of this Enj, it’s been weeks! When are you going to talk to him?” 

“I’m not, I tried talking, and he basically told me to burn in hell. If he wants to talk, he can come to me himself.” He doesn’t want to be friends; he doesn’t even want to be friendly. 

“Oh you are both such idiots.” 

“You’re one to talk Courf!”

“Excuse me?” 

“You and Jehan dance around each other like you think the other might bite. Just ask him out already.” 

“What? No, I’m not…I’m not gay, Enjy.” 

Enjolras gave a low chuckle, “Whatever you need to tell yourself man, but if you’re truly not, then you need to let him down easy, that boy has a major thing for you.” 

“No he doesn’t, we’re good friends, that’s all.” 

Courfeyrac had never had problems picking up the ladies; he was handsome, charismatic and well educated with a good job. 

It was one thing saying he wasn’t gay, but how would he know for sure? He had never been with a man, several women yes, but no men. Maybe he was bi? The feeling he got when Jehan fixed his pretty green eyes on him, well, it wasn’t a wholly friendly feeling. 

A couple of days went by as Courfeyrac pondered what Enjolras had said. He had also noticed that he hadn’t seen Jehan in those few days, and it made him feel a little lonely without the poet’s smile lighting up his day. 

The weekend came and Courf was beginning to feel impatient at not seeing Jehan, even if it was just as friends. He found himself wanting to speak to Joly about it, but the doctor wasn’t moving to London until next week, and Courf knew that he was busy preparing for it. For a hypochondriac, cleaning an apartment for a move was no easy task. Courf chuckled to himself as he imagined Joly in a yellow HAZMAT suit, spackling the holes in the walls with wall filler where paintings had hung. 

It would be nice having Joly, Feuilly and Bousset close again. They had only lived in separate cities for about two years, but he had missed them like nothing else. 

 

Enjolras was sitting in his office, typing emails on his computer. For most people, Saturdays are work free, but Enjolras feels that being such a young MP, he really needs to prove himself worthy. 

His phone rang at four-thirty, and glancing at the screen he saw Eponine’s name. He put her on speaker while continuing to type. 

“Ep.” 

“Hey, Enj, you busy?” 

“No, not really, what’s up?” 

“I’m just coordinating dinner tonight, you’re coming right?” 

“I don’t know Ep, we’ll see.” 

“Look, I don’t know why you and R are being complete assholes, but you need to stop it.” 

“You sound just like Courf.” 

“Well, someone has to be the voice of reason around here.”

“I tried being friendly, he shot me down, that’s that.” 

“Well then, you can keep ignoring each other, but you will do it while hanging out with us, because we want you both there at the same time.” 

“Fine…where?” 

“We’re ordering take-out and putting on a Game of Thrones marathon at the Musain.” 

“Sounds like a plan, see you later.”

“Bye.” 

 

At seven, people began to arrive at the Musain, carrying take-out boxes, wine, chips, bread, dip and most importantly, all released episodes of GoT. 

Grantaire shunned the wine in favour of a bottle of vodka that he had stashed beside his chair. They had brought out the four-place sofa from the staff room along with two comfy chairs. Bahorel had brought an inflatable mattress to place in front of the sofa, creating another makeshift couch. 

Grantaire had chosen the chair before any of the others came, making sure he didn’t end up next to Enjolras on the sofa. It was from that chair that he observed the people pouring into the Musain. 

Combeferre was early, and he stood by a wall looking at the paintings with Eponine while waiting for the rest to arrive. ‘Ponine was giggling shamelessly at something he said and Grantaire took another swig out of the bottle of vodka. Their flirting was disgusting. 

Courfeyrac and Enjolras arrived next, Marius on their heels. Courf looked around the room but when he didn’t find what he was looking for, his face fell slightly. Enjolras was desperately trying to catch Grantaire’s gaze, but to no avail. At least Montparnasse wasn’t there, that was something, he thought. 

When it was only Jehan missing the rest decided to start the marathon. Jehan had, after all, seen every episode at least three times before. 

The green-eyed strawberry blonde arrived soaking wet half an hour later. The episode was put on pause as everyone took him in. 

“It began to rain.” He simply said as an explanation. 

“You must be freezing, look, I have a hoodie in my bag in the kitchen, come with.” Courf took hold of Jehan’s wrist and pulled him along. “You all can continue the marathon.” 

In the other room, Courf was taking his time finding the hoodie, and when Jehan stripped off his shirt, revealing his bare chest, his hands froze. It was only for a second, and he hoped Jehan hadn’t noticed. 

“Here,” he handed over the emerald green sweater and Jehan pulled it on and zipped it three quarters of the way up, still revealing parts of his collarbones and chest. His eyes matched perfectly with the colour. 

Courf began staring at the floor instead of noticing how drops of rainwater made their way down Jehan’s forehead and nose. 

“I need a towel, or I’ll get everything wet.” 

“Um…yeah, right.” Courf found a kitchen towel and tossed it to Jehan. 

“You OK Courf?” 

“Ah…yes, fine.” 

“You seem a bit strange.” 

“Nope, I’m not, I just, ah nothing, let’s get back out there hey?” 

“If you’re sure, you can talk to me you know; if there is something bothering you.”   
“No, nothing.” 

“OK.” Jehan smiled his beautiful smile that lit up his eyes, and put an arm around Courf’s shoulders. “Come on then you big goof.” 

Back in the big room everyone was watching the show intently. Combeferre was sitting in a comfy chair with Eponine lying across his lap. 

Jehan stopped Courfeyrac and whispered to him; “is there something going on there?” gesturing to the two in the chair. 

“For someone so stuck on romantic movies and novels, you sure can’t see it when it’s right in front of you, Jehan.” 

Jehan’s gaze went to Grantaire and his bottle of vodka, and then to Enjolras, watching Grantaire instead of the show. “Sure I can…” He sighed. 

 

After the first three episodes, Cosette announced that they all needed to take a break, have some air and stretch. 

People began moving around except Bahorel who was soundly asleep on the mattress. 

Grantaire went into the kitchen to dispose of his now empty bottle of vodka. He found a bottle of white wine to take its place and poured himself a glass. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Enjolras had always despised Grantaire’s habits of drinking. 

“Mind your own damn business Apollo.” 

“You may think that I don’t know you, but we spent two whole years together, and I know that you’re drinking this excessively for some reason, so what is it?” 

“Mind. Your. Own. Bloody. Business!” Grantaire was leaning with both hands on the counter, head hanging, refusing to look at Enjolras. 

“No, you know what, I am tired of you acting like I have committed some great wrong towards you! I haven’t done anything wrong here!” 

“Not everything is about you Enjolras!” 

“I know that R, but if you would just talk to me…I could help.” 

“No, just stay away from me, how hard is that?” Grantaire walked out and left Enjolras standing alone in the kitchen. 

“You have no idea how hard that is my love…” he said quietly to himself.


	4. Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras gains some insight, but it doesn't make him feel any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but insightful. I have the next one written, but I might want to edit all of it, I don't know yet :P

When Enjolras first came to London three years ago, he was hell-bent on securing a post as an MP, and even more bent on forgetting the man who broke his heart. It became harder to forget him when Combeferre and Courfeyrac followed to the big city a year later. They kept, unconsciously, reminding him of the years with Grantaire, and it pained him terribly every time he saw that face in his mind, imagining running his hands through his soft curls. 

He would dream about him at night, feeling Grantaire next to him in the bed, arms around him, and then waking up to the stark reality of being alone. He would cry then, feeling so utterly hopeless. 

Seeing him now, without being able to touch him, even to speak with him, it hurt more than ever. He had the paintings in his new flat, he’d been given a substantial raise recently, and it had prompted him to move on with his life, without Grantaire. 

The capital R scrawled in one corner of the paintings along with the date made Enjolras want to both burn them and stare at them for hours. It was all he had left of his lover, all that he would allow. He sat on the floor with the three of them in front of him, tracing the R that he had seen Grantaire put on the canvas. 

It had now been a week since that night at the Musain, the one where Grantaire was in a stupor and Enjolras was too weak to tell him he still loved him, so terribly much. But what reaction would he get? Grantaire just laughing in his face? R did have someone else now after all, he had said so. 

There was only one person who knew what Grantaire was thinking, excluding Grantaire, and that was Eponine. She seemed to have taken the breakup with as much ease as can be expected, and not completely blaming Enjolras for it. 

Before he lost his courage, he called her. 

“Enj, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I need to speak with you.”

“About?”

“Grantaire.”

“Why don’t you speak to Grantaire about Grantaire?”

“Please ‘Ponine.”

“Yeah go on then.”

“Not over the phone, could you come over?”

“Um…okay, text me the address.”

An hour later Eponine arrived at Enjolras’ apartment. It was in a big white building with grey stone edges and a big door with a reception. 

“Man, you’ve got a sweet setup here!” 

“Thanks, I just moved in.”

She noticed the paintings standing on the floor, lined up against the wall they were supposed to occupy, but weren’t. 

“So, let’s get to it, what specifically about Grantaire is it that you want to dissect?” 

“Well, two things, first, what exactly does he believe happened when we broke up and second, what was bothering him last Saturday at the Musain?” 

“Wow, you’ve got them questions lined up and ready huh!”

“I’ve been thinking about them at length.” 

“I can’t say that I know with absolute certainty what he thinks happened, but from what he’s told me, you got a job in London and packed up, only stopping long enough to give him the slip.” 

“What!?”

“Well, didn’t you?”

“NO! I mean, I got a job in London, but I went to talk to him about it. It was a great opportunity, I had to take it.”

“And what did you say to him exactly?”

“I don’t remember the exact words I said, but I can remember his clear as day; ‘I suppose this is a good a time as any to end this Apollo, we both know it was heading this way’.”

“Okay, but what did YOU say?” 

“I said something along the lines of, ‘I have been offered a great job in London, and I am going to accept it. I know you’re not a big fan of the city, but I think it could be great’.”

“And what did that mean in your head?” 

“It meant just what I said, I was taking the job and I wanted him to come with me, instead, he broke up with me and left.” 

“Oh man, you both are truly, truly idiots of the worst kind. You ought to have known by then, you can’t expect Grantaire to understand that you want him with you! All he heard was ‘I’m leaving, bye’.” 

“Oh…” Enjolras didn’t know what to say, he felt like such an idiot.

“Yeah that’s one word for it.”

“So he said those things because he thought I was breaking up with him…”

“Something along those lines apparently.” 

“That’s why he thinks I left him…that’s why he’s so angry.”


	5. A little less (more) conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people talk, but not everyone says what they were supposed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing around with PoV:s, please let me know what you think in the comments, it really inspires to write! 
> 
> And for all Courf/Jehan fans, here's a little angst for you ;)

“If I hadn’t been so damn stupid, he would have been with me all these years.” 

“Speak to him, tell him all you told me, and don’t leave out the part where you love him.” 

“But Eponine…he…he doesn’t want me anymore, he hates me.” 

“But what if he does though, what if, somewhere deep inside, he doesn’t hate you?” 

\-------

At the same time, over at Eponine and Grantaire’s apartment, the doorbell was ringing. 

Courfeyrac really needed Grantaire, or Eponine for that matter. Joly was at work and didn’t pick up, same with Combeferre, Feuilly still hadn’t moved and Bousset, well, he wasn’t about to talk about his feelings with Bousset. 

After desperately ringing the doorbell five times, he gave up the hope that they were home. He had however, woken someone else.

Jehan opened his door on the opposite side of the hall and rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. “Courf?” 

“Jehan, sorry…” He took in the dishevelled look the poet was sporting, “did I wake you? It’s three in the afternoon.” 

“I had a late shift.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry I woke you, go back to sleep, I was just looking for your neighbours.” 

“No worries, I’ve been asleep for…” he looked at his wristwatch, “ten hours, that should do the trick.”

“Oh, well anyway, I should go.” 

“You can come in here if you want to wait for them to get home, or I could let you in to their apartment, I have the spare key.” 

“No really, it’s fine, I’ll just try them tonight, or later tomorrow.” 

“Courf, is it really fine or are you just saying that? I know we don’t know each other all that well, but you clearly have something bothering you. I’m sorry if it’s none of my business, but you shouldn’t keep stuff bottled up.” 

This is it Courf, man up. 

“I’d like to wait at your place, if that’s OK, I haven’t seen you all that much lately.”

“Come on in. I’ll just put the kettle on.” 

For the very first time, Courfeyrac was in Jean Prouvaire’s flat. It wasn’t quite what he had imagined it would be. It was very clean, not that he had imagined it dirty, but he had thought it would be cluttered. There were books, a lot of books, covering one wall of his living room. He couldn’t see any flowers, although a couple of cacti. 

He fingered the pot that held a smaller cactus. “I couldn’t keep a plant alive to save my life,” Jehan said from the kitchen. “Cacti won’t die when I forget to water them for a couple of weeks.” 

Courf laughed a small, nervous laugh. That was something he could imagine, Jehan becoming so distracted by something that he’d forget all about everything else.

“Jehan…”

“Yeah?” he called back from the kitchen.

“It’s…it’s a nice place you have.” What? Courf you moron!

“Yeah thanks, look, I’m just going to change into actual clothes, people might think I’ve gone mental, walking around in pyjamas in the middle of the afternoon.” He started walking over to his bedroom, stripping off the pyjama shirt as he went. 

Courfeyrac took in the perfectly sculptured back of the poet before he disappeared from view. 

This is it, Courf, he thought to himself; this is when you tell him.

“Hey Courf, I’m going out tonight, should I wear the green or the red shirt?” Jehan was standing in the opening to his bedroom, shirtless, holding one shirt in each hand. 

Going out? With people who aren’t me? Of course he has other friends, why wouldn’t he? He’s brilliant, beautiful, and just perfect. 

“What about movie night?” 

“I’m going to have to skip tonight, I’m sure you’ll manage without me for a night.” 

WE MIGHT NOT! He wanted to yell, but didn’t. 

“Yeah eh, green, definitely green, it’s your colour.”

“Thanks, I’ll trust you on that.” 

“You know, for one who uses colours and flowers in his poetry as much as you do, you seem to know very little of what goes with what.” 

“You’ve read my poems? When?” 

Oops, he doesn’t know you stalk his blog.

“Eh, only the stuff you post online, you know, on your blog.” 

“Courfeyrac, have you googled me?” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or call the cops.” He gave Courf a quick smile and a wink before heading back into the bedroom. 

“Flattered, definitely flattered.” 

 

\----

 

Grantaire awoke from his drunken stupor in the bathtub. That was new. 

He vaguely remembered hearing the doorbell ring, but it wasn’t ringing now, so whoever it was must have left. 

Last night had been wild. He remembered standing on a table, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other, screaming ‘I AM WILD’ at the top of his lungs. People had been dancing and yelling and cheering around him, and it had been amazing. This morning, however, was less amazing. 

He managed to heave himself out of the tub and stumbled to his bedroom. The clock on his table read 16:30. Ok, not morning anymore. 

He had been lying on the bed for about ten minutes when a key turned the lock on the front door and he heard Eponine’s voice from the hall. 

“Make yourself at home, I’ll go see if our favourite drunk is still passed out in the tub.”

“The tub?” That voice did most definitely not belong to Eponine. The voices were muffled through the door, but he could swear that was Enjolras. 

“That’s where he landed when he came stumbling in at seven this morning.”

Oh, it had been morning when he got back, no wonder it’s afternoon now. 

“You know I love him, but passing out in the tub sounds a lot like Grantaire at Uni. How long has this been going on?” 

“It never stopped.” 

“I see.” 

Love? Who loves whom? 

A moment passed.

“He’s not in there, maybe he’s gone out. Grantaire! Are you home?” 

Grantaire contemplated not answering, he could fake-sleep. “Grantaire!” 

Oh fuck it. “Yeah, what!?” 

“Come out here please!” 

“No, I’m sleeping!”

“Not anymore you’re not!” 

“Yes I am!” 

He heard footsteps approaching. She opened the door and glared at him. “Seriously? Are you a child?” 

“Just leave me the fuck alone.” 

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.” It was the other voice, now clearly recognisable as Enjolras. 

Grantaire turned over so he was on his back, and sat up a bit against the headboard. “Maybe it’s because I MEAN IT!” Enjolras was in his bedroom; Grantaire’s cock started throbbing. 

Eponine left the room, but no one noticed because they were so fixed on each other. 

“I can’t take it anymore Grantaire, I have tried, I have. But it is no good. I have realised your hatred for me is justified, and it is entirely my fault. But I need to ask you to forgive me.” 

“Forgive you? Just forget the three years I have spent alone because of you? I don’t think so.” 

Enjolras heard Eponine in his head; ‘Speak to him, tell him all you told me, and don’t leave out the part where you love him.’

“I’m not asking you to forget them, I am asking you not to extend them any further.” 

Grantaire didn’t say anything, so Enjolras went on. 

“When we broke up, when I left, I thought it was you breaking up with me. I was asking you to come with me, not telling you I was leaving.” He moved over to the bed and sat down at Grantaire’s feet. 

“Eponine made it clear to me that you thought I was leaving you, while I thought you were leaving me. It is a right mess and I know that is has been three years and that you have someone else now and…” He was babbling, but he became quiet when Grantaire sat up a little straighter. 

“I don’t even know how to respond to any of that.” His head was throbbing now. 

“Right, I should have known better, I just, it’s been torment for me, these years. And knowing now that it could have been avoided had I just been clearer with you, I feel sick.” 

“Where are you going with this? What’s the endgame? Do you want me to forgive you for…? 

“For not making it clear that when I left, I wanted you to come with me, I was planning a life with you, when you broke me.” 

“I broke you?? You broke me! I’m still broken!”

“Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said? We royally misunderstood each other! I loved you, I love you, and I know you don’t feel the same for me anymore but I am still asking you to forgive me so that I can at least try to move on from here!” 

“I want…”


	6. A little less conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R and E do a bit more talking, and a bit not talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few references hiding in this chapter, browniepoints for anyone who can spot them ;)
> 
> Also, if you feel like something is missing in the story, interaction between certain characters or so, let me know and I'll see what I can cook up, as you can tell it is mostly focused on E/R and Courf/Jehan with a sideorder of Eponine ;)

Grantaire got out of the bed and was pacing the room. 

“I want you to understand something Apollo. Before you came to the exhibition, I was actually getting along quite decently without you. I even had someone else. It is your constant presence here since then that is upsetting me.” 

“Had?” 

“Yes, had. I…I found him fucking someone else that night before the GoT marathon.” 

“So that’s why you were drinking so much, and snapped at me.” 

“I would have snapped at you either way, but yes.” 

“So…you’re single again.” 

“Don’t even go there Romeo, I’m not jumping in bed with you just because I happen to be otherwise unattached.” 

“Romeo?” Enjolras raised a quizzical eyebrow. “That’s new. Are you my Juliet then? Because if you are, I don’t like where this is heading.” 

“The days when I would fling myself off of a bridge for you are over Apollo.”

“They aren’t over for me.” He stood up and walked over to Grantaire. It was the closest they had been to each other in a long, long time, and Enjolras could feel it all over his body.

“I hope you will trust me again, I haven’t been with anyone but you.” He placed a soft kiss on Grantaire’s cheek and left. 

Grantaire was left feeling utterly empty. His whole being was screaming for Enjolras to come back, but he just sat down on the floor and tried to process what he had said. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all. Five years ago it had been Grantaire following Enjolras around like a puppy, begging for his attention. Now, all he had was the golden god’s attention, but what was he to do with it? 

\-----  
He remembered the first night his lips had touched Apollo’s. Grantaire had been sick with the flu in the middle of exams and everyone else was wrapped up in their own study-bubble. 

Enjolras had shown up uninvited and let himself in. Back then all the Amis had keys to everyone’s places. 

He had knocked on the door to Grantaire’s bedroom where Eponine had left him tucked in until she could get home from work. Walking in to place a thermos with hot tea and another with tomato soup on his nightstand, he accidentally stubbed his toe on the bed and let out a yelp. 

Grantaire had woken then, and been quite surprised at seeing a man in his room. At first he didn’t make out who it was in the dark, but the blonde hair couldn’t belong to Joly because he wouldn’t go within their apartment while someone was sick. As his eyes adjusted, he saw his Apollo standing there, cursing the bed. 

“Apollo?” 

“Yeah, hi. I just came to drop off something to eat.”

Grantaire had smiled weakly at him and Enjolras’ heart had melted. He leaned down to softly place his lips on Grantaire’s. He let his hand explore Grantaire’s hair, feeling the softness of it for the very first time. 

When they broke apart, Grantaire didn’t speak at first. Then he let out a hoarse cough, “that was too long overdue Apollo.”

“Gods, even when I kiss you, you have something to complain about.” 

“I promise I won’t complain if you just lie down with me.”

That was also the first night they spent together. 

\-----  
Now though, Grantaire was the one to decide what way they were heading. 

\-----

At movie night that evening, everyone was present except Jehan and Feuilly. 

Joly and Bousset were sharing the inflatable mattress with Bahorel, otherwise the furniture were occupied in the same way they had been a week ago. This time however, Grantaire was accompanied by a bottle of wine instead of vodka, a slight improvement at least. 

The evening’s entertainment this time was Firefly, and some had even dressed for the occasion. Enjolras had dressed as the captain, Joly was Simon, Combeferre was Jayne, Eponine went all out on her Zoe costume while Cosette looked like a little too pretty Kaylee. Joly had forced Bousset to wear a too big Hawaii-shirt, but the rest hadn’t gotten their nerd on quite so much. 

After the fourth episode Cosette announced that everyone needed an oil-change and pressed pause on the projector. 

Courfeyrac was moping in a corner of the sofa so when everyone had gotten up, except Bahorel who, again, was asleep, Grantaire plopped down next to him. 

“What’s up?” 

“Nothing.”

“Jehan said you were trying to get a hold of me earlier but I was a bit…indisposed.” 

“It is not important anymore.”

Before Grantaire could respond, Courf sobbed slightly, “He’s met someone else!” 

“Who has?” 

“Jehan of course, who else?” 

“I didn’t know you two were a thing yet.” 

“We’re not! Or at least he’s not, since he’s out with someone else!” 

“Courf, you’re not making any sense, if you are not together, he can go out to see whoever he pleases.” 

“He’s not supposed to want to see anyone but me! If he really wanted me like Enjy said, why is he out with someone else?!” 

“Did Enjolras say that? What does he know, he has the emotional range of a teaspoon!” 

“Still not on speaking terms?”

“Oh he’s talking, he’s always talking, and I…I just don’t know yet. We weren’t talking about me, we were talking about you, don’t change the subject!”

“You know Jehan the best, and you’re both gay guys, have you picked up on anything?” 

“Eh, Courf, unless it has escaped your notice, you seem to be gay too. It doesn’t make one psychic or a mind reader in any way.” 

“Sorry, it’s just…all so new to me, I’m not even sure I am gay per se, it’s not men in general, it’s Jehan in specific. 

“So you’re in love with the poet, how romantic. You should tell him that.” 

This earned him a glare.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” 

“Not hard enough it would seem, it’s just three little words; I, love, you.” A hand came to rest on Grantaire’s shoulder and he didn’t have to turn around to know whom it belonged too. 

“A moment of your time?” 

“I suppose.” He got up and joined Enjolras in the next room. 

“Why would you say those words to Courfeyrac?” 

“What words?” 

“I love you.” 

“He has trouble with his feelings for Jehan, I was just instructing him on how to easily let Jehan in on the fact that he’s in a relationship in Courfeyrac’s mind.” 

“And is he going to take your advice?” 

“It remains to be seen. I imagine you didn’t ask me to join you here to talk about Courf and Jehan.” 

“No, have you thought any about what I said?” 

“It’s only been a couple of hours Enjolras.” 

“So? I haven’t thought of anything else during those couple of hours.” 

“I imagine you want the sentiment returned, but I won’t oblige you there. You’d be stupid to think that I would just fall into your arms because you say you love me again.” And I’d be just as stupid to fall again. 

“Still.”

“Still?”

“I love you still, not again, I was never not in love with you.” 

“Whatever.”

“It’s not ‘whatever’, I need you to understand this; I wanted you with me to London, I want you with me in London now, I loved you then, I love you now, and the sooner you realise that I am not just giving up on us, the better.” 

They both stood silent for a while. “Don’t you feel anything for me anymore?” 

Grantaire would have killed for those words both three and five years ago when it was all he wanted to hear all the time, but now? 

“Call me on Monday, we’ll talk when I’m sober and you’re not full of adrenaline from all those feelings.” 

“I have to work on Monday, but…”

“I’ll tell you what, meet me on the steps of Westminster at noon on Monday, and give me a kiss, not just a peck either, a proper snog, and I’ll take you into consideration.” 

Enjolras edged forward, “I’ll give you a preview now if you want.” He backed Grantaire against the wall, sealing him there with hands on either side of his shoulders. “It is too long overdue Dionysus…” 

The kiss was innocent at first, just feather light on the lips, but it soon turned heated as Enjolras demanded more from his partner. Grantaire gave access and soon Enjolras moved on to Grantaire’s neck, unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, only two buttons, enough to get him access to the collarbones. He sucked hard and at the same time let one hand slide down between their hips, rubbing against a now hard Grantaire. 

“Your body is betraying your resolve my love.” 

“It has always done that around you, I’ll give it a stern talking to later…”

Enjolras’ hand was no longer on the outside of Grantaire’s trousers, and it earned him a deep moan. 

“Suck me off Apollo…” he moaned as Enjolras rubbed against him again. 

“Gladly.”

Enjolras got on his knees in front of Grantaire, and began to slowly unzip his trousers. “Don’t take it slow, just do it.” He got his cock out and Enjolras took it deep in his mouth, sucking hard and moving fast. His hands wandered up the back of Grantaire’s thighs and pulled his trousers down further along with his pants, giving access to his ass. He removed the cock from his mouth to suck on his own fingers, and then pushed a finger into Grantaire. 

“You remember how I like it.” 

“How could I forget…” 

They tried to make themselves look presentable before going back out to the rest, where the sixth episode was just beginning. Grantaire sank back into his chair and Enjolras took his place next to Courfeyrac.


	7. Westminster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire meets Enjolras at Westminster, Jehan comes knocking on Courfeyrac's door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been a couple of days. I'm in the middle of a lot of things so this is the last chapter I have finished, so it might be a few days more for the next time, I apologize in advance. To make up for it, I present to you...FLUFF!

It was 11:30 and Enjolras was sitting in his office, impatiently tapping is foot, then getting up to pace for a few minutes, and repeating. If Grantaire really did show up in half an hour, what would that mean?

Would they be together again? Did it mean that he loved him also? 

Enjolras wasn’t foolish enough to believe that their little rendezvous in the gallery on Saturday night was anything more than lust. Grantaire hadn’t spoken a word to him the rest of the night, and he hadn’t seen him yesterday. Maybe he had been too drunk to remember their plans. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt the little box situated there. Today wouldn’t be the day, but someday, yes, he was sure that someday that box would leave his pocket. 

The clock slowly crawled towards mid-day. As Enjolras stepped out into the sunny day, he saw that quite a few of his colleagues were enjoying the day, and one was holding an interview with five reporters in front of him. If he kissed Grantaire right here, they would all see it, it would be on film and in pictures and probably all over the gossip-pages. 

He hadn’t realised before that that was exactly what Grantaire had been counting on. If Enjolras went through with the kiss, it would prove that he didn’t care what anyone else thought, that he truly loved Grantaire. Clever man, clever clever, but Enjolras would not disappoint. If only his man would show up. 

He glanced at his wristwatch; it was one minute to twelve. 

“Apollo.”

Enjolras spun around, and there he was, in all his glory, the man he loves. 

“I was beginning to think you’d stand me up.” Enjolras had to squint a bit in the sun to properly see Grantaire. 

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

Enjolras moved them both right in line of sight of the reporters, and pulled Grantaire to him by his tie, moulding his mouth to his and twisting his fingers in that dark hair. 

The vultures quickly abandoned the MP speaking about the economy and turned their attention to the two men, still entangled in each other. 

The questions began to hail down on them but Enjolras waved at them to quiet down and they stood ready to hear what he was going to say. 

“You seem to have many questions about me kissing my…” He looked at Grantaire, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “My ex boyfriend, but I am trying really hard to make him take me back and you are not helping the matter folks.” He joked with the reporters and they laughed. 

“How long have you been together?” One reporter asked. 

“In my mind, five years, in his…?” 

“Five years, yeah.” Grantaire filled in, what was he supposed to say? 

“Are you a firm supporter of LGBT-rights?” 

“If that wasn’t obvious from before, then yes, I am.” 

“Any plans on tying the knot?” 

“It might be a bit too soon to tell, but that will have to remain private for now, if you’ll excuse us…”

Enjolras brought Grantaire with him up to his office and locked the door behind them. 

“They really put people on the spot those reporters, don’t they?” 

“Yes, they do that.” 

“Do they always ask such personal questions?” 

“It’s their job to get the juicy details, and mine to keep them to myself.” 

“Have you thought about it?” Enjolras could pretend not to know what he meant, but he did know. 

“About marrying you? Yes, I have, but I realise you’re not there yet, and I get that.”

“Oh, good, good.” Grantaire looked at his feet. 

“Why do you ask? Do you want to marry me? Remember, not being clear is what got us into this mess.” 

“Well yes and no, I mean what we have now, it’s so new and…”

“I don’t have a strong need to be married R, as long as I get to be with you, but if you did want to, some day, let me know.” 

“I do love you, you know, I just... don’t trust you yet.” Grantaire ran his hand through the locks over Enjolras’ forehead. 

“So…where do we go from here?” 

“Well, I imagine you’ll have to get back to work, and I have some painting to do, but maybe I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Yes, but what I mean is, are we together now? Are you my boyfriend or still with the ex in front?” 

“It would be pretty silly to keep the ex, I don’t want you with anyone else, you don’t want me with anyone else, so I think it might be time to remove the ex.” 

Enjolras couldn’t hide his smile, “Good,” and he pulled Grantaire in for another kiss.

 

Over at his apartment, Courfeyrac wasn’t nearly as happy as his friends at that moment. He had called in sick and spent the day in bed eating ice cream and chips, or, eating the ice cream with the chips. 

He had endured the Sunday afternoon with Eponine and Jehan at a café listening to Jehan babbling on about his night out with his colleagues, one in particular. They’d had sooo much fun and they were so amazing and Jehan was sure they would all love each other! 

Courfeyrac had looked miserable and Eponine had patted him on the thigh with a look on her face saying ‘I feel you man’. 

He had left early, making up an excuse that he had papers to grade before Monday, but here he was, wallowing in his misery. 

His phone rang and he picked it up, debating whether to answer Jehan or not. Well, it wasn’t much of a debate. “Hello.”

“Hey Courf, I was talking to Combeferre and he said you were home sick today. Everything alright?”

“Um…yeah, I just felt a little under the weather this morning, but I’m better now, just needed a personal day.”

“Oh okay, I won’t bother you, just checking to see if you needed anything.” 

“Actually I do need something, could you maybe come over?” 

“Yeah sure, I’ll be right there.” 

Courf fell back onto the bed with a thud. “He’s coming and this time you will not chicken out, you will not!” he mumbled to himself. 

Fifteen minutes later, he heard a knock on the door. “It’s open, come in!” Damn that was quick. Courf was in the middle of getting dressed after a quick shower. He had just pulled on trousers when Jehan came through the door. This time it was Courf’s turn to be shirtless. 

Jehan did a double take and was for once at a loss for words. “Um, you’re not sick at all, are you?” 

“No.” He didn’t bother with the shirt. “Well, I was a bit depressed, so that probably counts as sick if you want.” 

“Why?”

“Because I have been struggling with some feelings that I have had, since, well, since I met you.” 

“Okay…?” 

“I love you, I’m in love with you. And…well, it just hurts me to hear about you meeting all these fantastic people, and flirting right in front of me sometimes when we’re out. And…” 

“Oh Courfeyrac you big dummy. I didn’t think…I thought you knew and just didn’t care or feel the same.” 

“You’ve lost me now.”

“I’m in love with you too, I just thought you knew, but that you didn’t feel the same, I didn’t even know if you were gay.” 

“I’m not, in general. But I love you and you happen to be a man, so what? It doesn’t matter, you are sexy as fuck and I need you, Jehan.” 

Jehan walked over to where Courf was standing in front of his closet. He ran one finger down the middle of his bare chest slowly and gave a small sigh. “I wish I had known sooner.” 

“I wish I’d had the courage to tell you sooner, but at least now I have, so... Jean Prouvaire, will you be my boyfriend?” 

Jehan let out a little laugh, 

“What?” 

“It’s just, ‘boyfriend’ sounds like we’re teenagers, we are grown men for gods sake.” 

“Alright, what do you want to call it then?”

“I don’t know, partner maybe? Until you put a ring on my finger, then it’s husband.” Jehan had a wicked little glint in his eyes. 

“Alright slow down there, we’ve just gotten together right now, like this minute, we might want to make sure we don’t kill each other first.”

“Um, yeah right, I tend to…get a little overexcited sometimes.” Jehan stared at his feet, but his hand was still resting on Courf’s chest. 

“I can tell, now come here.” Courf pulled Jehan closer and kissed him for the very first time with an intensity that even took Jehan by surprise. 

After a little while, Jehan pushed Courf away slightly. “Fuck…air, Courf.” 

“Is the poet having trouble finding words?” 

“I have some words, it’s too bad you don’t have a shirt on because I want to rip one off of you.” 

“I think you’ll live.” 

They didn’t emerge from Courfeyrac’s flat that day.


	8. Flashbacks and other things on its back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combeferre invites everyone to a party at R's and Eponine's, and R helps E figure out what to wear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah, the ending is my first time writing that sort of thing, so I apologise in advance if it's not amazing :P

Enjolras was sitting on the sofa in his living room. The little black box was sitting on the table in front of him, open and empty. The ring itself was being twirled around in the blonde man’s fingers. 

He had been so nervous when he had gone out to get it, leaving Grantaire in bed and sneaking out, hoping to get back and get his feelings in check before his boyfriend woke up. That had been three years and two months ago. 

It was a simple and elegant ring, Enjolras didn’t imagine Grantaire would want to wear something sparkly, so he had gotten a platinum band with an inscription on the inside and on the outside, a light, artistic pattern that E had stolen from a sketchbook that R had left at his flat. 

It burned around the edges of his eyes when he thought back to how happy he had been then, and how extremely unhappy he had been for three long years after. Instead he could have been married to the love of his life, having a life together. But he had been so broken by Grantaire’s words that day that he had left and never come back. 

When he had packed his bags for London, he had contemplated three options;

Keeping the ring,  
Leaving the ring,  
Taking the ring to London and throwing it in the Thames. 

He’d eventually gone with option one, though option three had been up for discussion a few times during those years. 

He was so lost in his depressing reverie that he didn’t hear Combeferre knock or open the door. 

“So, which is it this time, keeping or throwing in the Thames?”

“Keeping, most definitely keeping.” 

“Things are going well then?”

“Yes, as well as one could imagine. I think we’re an official thing again now.” 

“You think? Don’t you think you should know?” 

“I do know, I guess I just imagine this to be a dream and I’ll wake up and none of this will have happened.” 

“Well it has happened, so stop sulking, put the ring back in its box unless you plan on putting it on R’s finger right now, and come with me, we’re going out.” 

“Not yet, but someday…Wait, going out? Where?” 

“Some club Eponine and Cosette had found, supposed to be really good.” 

“Speaking of Eponine…” Enjolras flashed Combeferre a suggestive smirk. 

“It’s just a casual thing, she’s not really the commitment type, or so she says.” 

“I just feel a bit out of the loop, what with all of my own drama, but I have to ask, do you know if Cosette has noticed that Marius is alive yet?” 

“No idea, why?”

“Because he keeps texting me asking to go with him to the gallery to “look at some art” and I am getting pretty tired of it.” 

“Oh the poor boy is in love.”

“He’s a grown man, he should show some initiative.” 

“Says the guy who’s been single for three years of his five year dating career.”

“Not single, just on a hiatus.” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

“You’re not being very supportive.” 

“Sorry, it’s just my own drama. Eponine is so casual about everything. She has no problem draping herself all over me, not that I mind, but then she doesn’t have time for me for a week, and then out of the blue, she’s all over me again.” 

“You should talk to Grantaire about it, he knows her the best after all.” 

“Yeah maybe. Anyway, about tonight?”

“Yeah sure why not, I suppose R will want to go, and I want to be with him, so…”

“Great, we’ll all rendezvous at their place at around eight, have a few drinks and then head out later.” 

When Combeferre had left, Enjolras put the little box away into its hiding place and picked up his phone. He scrolled through the numbers and stopped at Grantaire’s. He hadn’t called him once since they met again, and he was feeling a little nervous.

“Get over it Enjolras, it’s Grantaire you’re calling, how are you going to ask him to marry you if you can’t call him on the phone?” OK, talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.

Three signals went through before Grantaire picked up.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s Enjolras.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“About the thing tonight, the going out, what exactly does one wear?” 

He wasn’t sure if the laughter was coming through the phone or if Grantaire’s laugh could actually be heard across town. It took him a couple of minutes to calm down enough to speak. 

“What do you usually wear when you go out?”

“I don’t go out, not like that. It’s usually nice dinners or wine tastings or gallery exhibitions.” He said that last one with a bit of caution.

“Well, what do you wear then?” 

“A suit.” 

“Ah, well, that won’t do, will it.” 

“I suppose not, it could potentially get a little hot.” 

“Yeah…potentially…”

“Mind out of the gutter, are you going to help me or not?” 

“Yeah, I suppose, I will have to be seen with you after all.” 

“Come over?”

“Yeah, sure, give me an hour.” 

 

An hour passed with Enjolras rummaging around his closet and drawers trying to figure out what might be suitable. He didn’t own many jeans, mostly slacks and khakis, and the t-shirt supply was pretty low. 

When Grantaire finally arrived, Enjolras was sitting on the floor surrounded by clothes. 

“Well…this is a sight.” 

Enjolras stretched his arms out towards Grantaire. “Help me!” 

Grantaire took him by the wrists and pulled him up to standing position. “Alright, you look like a mess.” 

“Thanks.”

“A fine hot mess.” 

“I have no idea how to do this! I mean look at you, you look sexy as fuck in your jeans and a t-shirt, I would look ridiculous.” 

“Well, maybe you’re not supposed to wear that, I always found you sexiest when you wore a nice fitting shirt with a button or two open at the collar, a very well fitting pair of slacks, and a belt so I could get a hold of you easily.”

“You don’t think that would look too formal?”

“No, you’ll be fine like that, oh and with rolled up sleeves, so one can see those forearms.” 

“Okay…”

Twenty minutes later they had Enjolras dressed to perfection. Grantaire had to sit down or he thought he might faint. “God damn Enjolras, no man has ever looked sexier.” 

“Does that mean I might not sleep alone tonight?” 

“Maybe, if you play your cards right.” 

Enjolras took a step towards Grantaire so he was close enough to take his hand. He brought it up to his neck, tracing R’s fingers along his pulse and down to where the buttons began. At the same time, Enjolras brought his other hand to Grantaire’s stomach and brushed his fingers lightly over his crotch. 

“That’s cheating E.” 

“So? When has it hurt to bend the rules just a little?” 

“Do you want me to fuck you right now? Because I will, but we’ll be late.” Grantaire’s voice had turned rough and gravelly. 

“I really want you to fuck me right now.”

Grantaire pushed Enjolras down on the bed and looked at him with dark eyes, full of lust for the blonde god. He climbed on top of him, and kissed him roughly, taking his lower lip between his teeth and biting, earning a loud moan from his partner. It took no time opening the shirt and tugging it up and off Enjolras, and there they were, his rock solid abs that Grantaire would have dreams about. He kissed them each in turn, then moving up to take E’s mouth again, at the same time undoing his belt and feeling his hardness, palming and massaging, swallowing down the moans he elicited. 

“Careful R, I haven’t done this in a while, I can’t hold out as well.” 

Grantaire smiled wickedly. “Turn over.” 

Enjolras did as he was bid, and felt his slacks being removed along with his boxers. “I am going to enter you without stretching, you’ll be tight, but it will feel so good.” 

“I am completely naked now, and you are still fully clothed.” E grabbed his cock and began pumping, the feeling being too much to take. 

“Don’t do that, I want you to come from fucking alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Who’s doing the fucking here E? Do as I say.” 

His commanding ways turned Enjolras on more than he would like to admit. For once, he wasn’t the one calling the shots. Grantaire got a bottle of lube out of Enjolras’ nightstand. “Have you been fucking yourself?” 

“Yes, thinking about you.” 

“The fantasies are over now, get ready for the real thing.” And he pushed into Enjolras, slowly but without pause. E cried out and fisted his sheets, but Grantaire didn’t stop, only kept on pushing until he was fully within his Apollo. 

“Feel me inside you Apollo, does it feel like you remembered, like you fantasised?” 

“More so, good god so much better.” 

Grantaire was moving fast now, hitting that spot within Enjolras that made him scream again. “Please, R, my cock, take it.” 

Grantaire knew it would be even better for Enjolras, so he reached around and pumped his cock along with his thrusts. 

“Fuck yes, oh my god R, fuck me!”

Enjolras came and clenched around Grantaire, making him spill inside his ass. They both fell back onto their backs on the bed, panting from the exercise. 

A few moments passed in silence, then Enjolras spoke. 

“How late are we?”


	9. The club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang head to a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, sorry it's so short, sorry sorry sorry, I'll try to do better. Next chapter will feature some snippets of the others at the club.

“You’re late! Where have you guys been?” Jehan basically jumped them as soon as they opened the door to Grantaire’s flat. 

“We…uh.”

“Couldn’t find the time to iron your shirt Enjy?” 

Enjolras felt the redness creep up his neck, and Grantaire lifted his hand to Enjolras’ neck, playing with the curls there. 

“Oh…! I see, how wonderful!” Jehan let out a little squeal of joy that made Courfeyrac turn around to see what was going on.

“Jehan?” Courf walked up to the three standing in the hallway and laid his arm casually around the poet’s waist. 

“They’re together Courf, don’t you see?” 

“Yes, but they have been together for like a week.” 

“Yes, but they have been TOGETHER, get it?” 

“Oh.”

“Can you two stop talking about us like we’re not standing right here?” Enjolras was getting a little annoyed, but he was relishing in the feeling of Grantaire’s fingers lightly playing on his neck. He leaned back slightly into his hand and Grantaire took a firmer hold on Enjolras, turning him for a kiss. 

Jehan and Courf were still standing right there. “Ohh…” Jehan sighed, “it’s like a fairytale, the prince got his prince.” 

“Aren’t we a fairytale Jehan?” 

“Of course we are, but I ship E/R right now, you see.” 

“Ship? What the hell is that?”

“Never you mind love, never you mind, come along Courf, and get me a drink.” Jehan took Courfeyrac by the hand and led him away from the other two. 

“Jehan is something else.” Enjolras commented. 

“He is, and he’s probably been your greatest advocate since your return.”

“I’ll have to thank him at…” Stop Enjolras, do not say the W-word.

“At what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Enjolras…don’t make me take you into my room and force it out of you.” 

“Is that supposed to be a threat? You’ll have to think that one over again, I’d gladly go into your room and let you cross-examine me.” 

“Just tell me, what’s the big deal?” 

Enjolras sighed and lowered his voice. “I was going to say, I’ll have to thank him at our wedding.” 

“Oh, you’re still on that.” 

“I’m always on that, but that still doesn’t mean I expect you to be.” 

“Good, because I am not getting married until I am at least thirty.”

“What’s with the age limit?”

“When I’m thirty, it will have been ten years since we first met.” 

“Yes, but it’s still three…two and a half years, off.” 

“It’s not like you’ll be without me for those years.” 

“I know I sound needy, but I…”

Grantaire silenced him with a long, soft kiss. “I know my love, I know.” 

The night went on without a hitch and everyone was enjoying themselves, especially Enjolras who hadn’t lost Grantaire’s touch once until they all left the flat and went in search of this mysterious bar. 

When they all had entered and checked their coats at the door, where Courfeyrac had given the guy a murderous look as he openly flirted with Jehan, they ordered a tray of shots. 

“To us all!” Cosette toasted.

“To us all!” Everyone chimed in, raising and emptying their glasses. 

Jehan made Courfeyrac dance with him several times during the night, Combeferre wouldn’t have been able to rid himself of Eponine even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. 

“Dance with me Apollo?” Grantaire half-shouted over the pounding music. 

“You know I can’t dance R, dance with Cosette.” 

“I don’t want to do that kind of dancing,” he wiggled his eyebrows and Enjolras downed another shot. “In a minute, I’m way too sober for that.” 

“I’ll dance with you, handsome.” Grantaire recognised the voice almost immediately, but Enjolras had no clue who it was hitting on his boyfriend. “It’s been a while R, a turn on the floor for old times sake?” Montparnasse looked gorgeous in his tight jeans, t-shirt and vest, a loose tie around his neck, tucked into the black vest. 

Grantaire looked quickly to Enjolras, noticed the confusion on his face, then put his hand in ‘Parnasse’s. “Lead the way.” 

He heard the faint noise of protest coming from Enjolras but didn’t turn back. He let Montparnasse lead him out onto the big floor that was packed with writhing bodies tightly pressed against each other. He pulled Grantaire very close and danced a slow, sexy way. It turned Grantaire on to think of Enjolras watching them, jealousy probably burning within him. His loss, he wouldn’t dance. 

After two songs Grantaire began to pull away, making it halfway back to the bar where Enjolras was waiting when Montparnasse’s hand grasped his upper arm. 

“Come on R, don’t tease a man like that and walk away, come back with be and have a good time.”

“Sorry ‘Parnasse, I think we’ve had enough fun for now.”

“What, can’t wait to get back to your fairy boy over there, he can’t possibly be enough for you, I know what you like.” 

“That ‘fairy boy’ is my boyfriend, since you cheated on me, so lay off.” 

“I love it when you get a little worked up R, come on now.”

“Get your hand off him.” Enjolras’ voice was hard and sharp. 

“Or what?”

“Or I will break off.” 

If Montparnasse was intimidated he didn’t show it, but he released his grip on Grantaire. “Give me a call when you’ve tired of this one.” He said to Grantaire and turned back to the floor. 

“You OK?” Enjolras lightly traced his fingers down Grantaire’s arm. 

“Just peachy, I’m used to him being like that, he doesn’t take it well when it’s him being rejected.” 

“Right, a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Were you trying to make me jealous just now?” 

“Maybe…did it work?”

“You don’t need to try and make me jealous Grantaire, I get jealous if you smile at the coat-check guy.” 

“Good to know.”

“I don’t like seeing you pressed up against someone other than me you know.”

“Then you should prevent such things from happening by dancing with me.” 

“I’ll take you home right now and we can dance all you want.”

“I’ll get our coats.”


	10. The Marius deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius complains on E's sofa, and Grantaire rescues them both. The weeks went by and as summer approached everyone seemed genuinely happy with their lives, well, everyone except Marius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I may have said this chapter would take place at the club, but I want to move Marius and Cosette along now so here is some Marius angst and some E/R fluff. :)

The weeks went by and as summer approached everyone seemed genuinely happy with their lives, well, everyone except Marius. 

“I don’t know what I am doing wrong Enjolras!” Marius sank down on Enjolras’ sofa with a deep sigh and put his forehead in his hands. 

“I don’t know what to tell you Marius, maybe it’s just not meant to be?” 

“Just not meant…how would you feel if I said that about you and R?” 

“I wouldn’t care because you would be wrong, Grantaire and I belong together, I know that and he, well, and he probably knows that when he isn’t off his ass.” 

“I belong with Cosette! You are supposed to come with helpful advice, how did you get Grantaire the first time?”

Enjolras chuckled and sat down in a chair opposite from Marius. “I didn’t, he was a pain in my ass from the moment I met him, and I just wanted him and his drunken self out of my life.” 

“So…what? Did he save your life or something?”

“No…nothing quite so dramatic, he just wore me down until I found myself waiting for him to be there, being disappointed when he wasn’t and then one day I just found myself longing for him, his smile, his banter, his touch…” Enjolras drifted off for a second into his own world, but Marius wasn’t having it.

“Enj! Snap out of your daydreaming and help me!” 

“You just have to spend more time with her, help her out at the gallery, bring her lunch…”

“Her dad brings her lunch.”

“Then bring it before he does, smile at her, joke, laugh, have some fun. All I see when you two talk is her trying to find some topic where you have something more to say than one sentence.” 

“She makes me nervous!” 

“So tell her that! Tell her she makes your heart skip a beat, tell her anything for heaven’s sake so we can all be happy and not have you moping around her like a sad puppy!” 

“What’s going on in here?” Grantaire closed Enjolras’ front door behind him and dropped a bag with what looked like wine and chips on the table. 

Enjolras walked over to him, glanced at the bag, gave Grantaire the stink eye for a fraction of a second and then kissed him. “Marius still hasn’t gotten off his ass with Cosette.” 

“You need to get on that, I know for a fact she as another suitor at her doorstep.” 

“What?”

“Suitor, really?” Enjolras smirked. 

“For lack of a better word, yes, he came into the gallery today with flowers and asked her to dinner tomorrow evening.” 

“And she said yes?” Marius looked like he was about to explode. 

“Yup, right away too, not even thinking about it or anything.” 

“Who is he? I have to google him.”

“Google him? No you have to go to her and ask her out tomorrow night.” 

“But she already…”

“Oh you dufus, if she tells you yes then she doesn’t like him as much as she likes you, and if she tells you that she’s busy, well then she might just want to be polite to the other guy and not cancel last minute.” 

“You know R, sometimes you are such a genius!”

Grantaire looked at Enjolras, “only sometimes?”

“You are always a genius in my mind, a sexy sexy genius.” 

“GUYS! Can we focus please! I still need help with what to say!”

“Just ask her, it doesn’t have to rhyme you know. Just straight up tell her she looks beautiful today, ask her to dinner and await her reply.” 

“Okay, I’ll do that, I’ll go now!” 

“Go young padawan, you have been well taught.” 

When Marius had left, spirits high and a spring in his step, Enjolras pulled Grantaire down on the sofa with him. “There isn’t another guy, is there?”

“Would I lie?”

“Yes.”

“Alright fine, there isn’t, but I figured a little pressure wouldn’t go amiss, he’s been dragging his feet ever since they met.”

“You know she could make the first move as well.”

“She could, but she’s not the one almost crying on her best friend’s sofa.” 

“Do you really think he has a chance?”

“About as much of a chance as you do with me.” 

“A few months ago I didn’t have you at all.”

“And the same goes for him, so he only has good things to look forward to, doesn’t he?” 

“I love you, you know, no matter what you do, I always will.” 

“I love you too, even though you are a sleazy politician.” 

“I am not sleazy.” 

“All politicians are sleazy, it comes with the job, you can’t help it love.” 

“Well, this sleazy politician thinks it’s about time we cook some dinner, would you uncork the wine?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe next time we'll see what happes when Marius arrives at the gallery, or maybe something else, time will tell ;)


	11. The problem with weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius goes to the gallery and Enjolras meets Grantaire at the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marius is less angsty, but E/R is more so :P Sorry in advance ;) (Not sorry ;))

Marius almost threw the door open into the gallery, making the bell rattle and chime. Cosette looked up from her desk and smiled at him when she saw who it was. 

“Marius, what a nice surprise, how are you?” 

“Not great, I just came from Enjolras’, Grantaire told me you’re seeing someone else.” 

“Someone…else? Who would I be seeing that I could be seeing someone ‘else’?” 

“Me! I love you, I love you with all my heart, you are beautiful, stunning really, funny, smart, amazing, everything that is good in the world is you, and I… I know I don’t always talk…a lot, it’s just hard for me sometimes but now I’ve said it, I love you!” 

“Marius…I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Well, can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night? We could talk properly, if you want to, that is.”

“Sure, yes, dinner would be good.” Cosette was at a loss for words at his out of the blue declaration. She was beginning to think her feelings for him were not reciprocated by anything more than friendship. 

“I’ll pick you up at say…seven?” 

“Um…yes fine, seven.” 

“Good, I’ll see you then.” He leaned in and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

“Marius? Who is this other guy Grantaire was talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“What? He said you had a date tomorrow night.” 

“No, I don’t, I was just going to have a movie night with Eponine, Combeferre and Bahorel. Wait, is that why you asked me out? Because you thought someone else had gotten to it first?”

“I..umm…”

“Marius Pontmercy! Speak up!” 

“No it’s not why, but it got the ball rolling so to speak, I have no idea if you even like me like that.” 

“Oh you silly boy, of course I like you like that, why do you think I keep ending up next to you, always trying to talk to you?” 

“Maybe you’re just friendly?” 

“Or maybe you’re thick in the head.” She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, “good thing we sorted that out, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, but I am going to kill Grantaire.”

“He was probably just trying to help you.” 

“Still, he deserves a good kicking.” 

\-------

 

Grantaire <3:  
Apollo, meet me at the park at noon,   
I want to see your golden curls in the sunlight,   
xx R

xxApolloxx:  
What’s with the sudden need for my body?

Grantaire <3:  
Not your body, your hair, but now that   
you mention it… ;);)   
xx R

xxApolloxx:  
By the fountain? 

Grantaire <3:  
Your texts could use some more   
kisses and emoticons, I might  
think you don’t love me anymore ☹  
xx R

xxApolloxx:  
You do know that my name for you  
in my phonebook is followed by a heart,  
Jehan showed me how to do it. <3 

Grantaire <3:  
I still need the affection in text form  
Apollo, give me what I want damnit! 

xxApolloxx:  
You didn’t write any x:s at the end of that   
message. ☹ Trying to upset me? 

Grantaire <3:  
There, was one little emoticon so hard?  
A sad one, but one nonetheless, I am  
satisfied. Park, noon, fountain?   
xx R

xxApolloxx:  
It’s a date. ☺ 

 

Noon rolled around and Enjolras made his way to the park. He saw Grantaire sitting on the edge of the fountain, speaking to another man, and then clasping his hand before the man walked away. 

Grantaire smiled up at him when he came to a stop in front of him. “Depriving me of kisses in real life as well Apollo?”

“Never.” He leant down and tangled his fingers in Grantaire’s dark curls, “I love your hair…” and then kissed him with such fervour that Grantaire almost fell back into the fountain when Enjolras released him. 

“Hello to you too!” 

“Who was that man you were with?”

“No one.” 

“You shake hands with no one?” 

“He was just uh…asking for directions.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Uh, big ben.”

“Right, now tell me who he really was R.” Enjolras traced his fingers over Grantaire’s jaw, neck, arm and ribs, down his stomach to his jacket pocket.

“That is really distracting you know.”

“It’s supposed to be,” Enjolras held the bag of weed in front of Grantaire, “Weed? You do drugs now?”

“It’s not drugs, it’s just a bit of recreational fun.” 

“I can’t be associated with drugs R, so neither can you.” Enjolras opened the small bag and poured its content into the fountain. 

“Hey! Why not? I’m not an MP!”

“No but I am, and I can’t have it rumoured that I do drugs!” Enjolras wanted to shout at Grantaire for being so careless, but he only managed a hushed whisper, there were a few others around after all. 

“I do them, I drink, ME! Not you, so give it a rest. I love you Apollo but you can be a real pain in my ass.”

“I am serious Grantaire, no more drugs, what if it were to end up in the tabloids? Do you have any idea what that would do to my career?” 

“I…I don’t, I didn’t think about it that way…” Grantaire looked like he really needed that weed right now, or a strong drink, or both. 

Enjolras was pacing while Grantaire still sat there on the edge of the fountain. “No, you don’t think do you, not ever about anyone but you. You say you love me but this is how you show it? Good grief…” 

Grantaire wasn’t sure what he was hearing. Was Enjolras breaking up with him, AGAIN? Or was he putting forward an ultimatum? 

“Enj…it’s just a little bag of weed, it’s not like I’m buying crack.”

“Who knows what you buy? I haven’t thought of looking for marks on you, but maybe I’ll start.” 

“Stop it! I am not doing crack or anything like that! It’s just weed Enjolras, it’s not dangerous!” 

“Yes it is! You are my partner, my boyfriend and someday my husband, I need you to not inhale or ingest illegal substances. Can you do that for me?” 

“No, I might be all those things, but I am not going to turn my life over because you allow me in your presence again, so give it a rest!”

“Might be? MIGHT BE!? Are you planning on leaving me?” 

“No I am not planning on leaving you, but I am not your project either, you are not allowed to ‘fix’ me! I am who I am and if you don’t like it then it sucks to be you! God Enjolras, we had this conversation five years ago, and I told you the same thing then!”

“Yes, and I thought you might have matured just a little bit since then.” 

“I am who I am, take it or leave it.” 

“Think it is that easy to get rid of me? I love you, I don’t want you to hurt yourself!” 

“No, you don’t want me to hurt your precious career!” 

“Would I ask you to marry me if I thought it would hurt me? Or if I cared if it would?” 

“God Enjolras, stop with the marriage thing, I already told you, not before I’m thirty! I am not marrying you now and that’s that!” 

“Is that what this is? You acting out, trying to make me not want you? Did you plan for me to see you buying drugs?” 

“No…No, I just, you need to realise who it is you’re with, I am not perfect.” 

“Yes you are, to me you are perfect, alcohol, weed, they don’t make you any less perfect, but I still wish I could persuade you to stop.” 

“Maybe I’ll stop one day, but not now.” 

“Fine, we’re not getting any further with this, but if I find more drugs, they are going in the fountain as well!”


	12. Lightning from clear skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras finds out about a headline in the papers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry about the (almost) eternally long time this has taken me, I had finals and stuff, but now I have some free time, so I figure I should finish this soon. Well, soonish. ;)

Enjolras’ phone woke him up two hours before the alarm was supposed to go off. It was Combeferre; “Enjolras, have you seen the papers?” 

“I am asleep ‘ferre, I have not seen the papers.” 

“Well you should, someone has pictures of you and Grantaire, and you are holding a bag of what looks to be weed.” 

Enjolras fell back down on the bed with a thud, “it’s happening…” 

“What is it about?” 

“Grantaire bought weed at the park yesterday, I took it from him and poured it out into the fountain, someone must have been lurking…” 

“Well, it has both your names and a big headline, you might want to do something about it.” 

“Great…just great!” 

….

As Enjolras was getting dressed to face reporters, Grantaire knocked on his door. “Enjolras! I’m sorry, open up!” 

He went and turned the lock, pushing the door open and then going back to the mirror to tie his tie. “I have to clean this up, think of something to explain it with.”

“Should I come with you?”

“I doubt that would help, they’d eat you alive.” 

“Are you angry with me?” Grantaire sat on the armrest of the sofa, looking very down. 

“Yes I am angry with you! And I have a bloody right to be! How do you think I am going to explain this away? I’ll have to lie, spin some story no one will believe and hope it dies down.” 

“I’m sorry Enj…”

“Don’t bother, I am not in the mood for this. We can talk when I have dealt with this mess, try not to mess it up even more while I’m gone.” 

“Apollo…” Grantaire got up and walked up to Enjolras, trying to take his face in his hands, trying to kiss him, but Enjolras would not comply. 

“I said don’t.” 

Grantaire dropped his arms to his sides and took a few steps back, regarding Enjolras. The blonde had a stern expression on his face and his gaze was a cold blue. He moved to the door but stopped and turned back, “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Do you think that will fly, we promise to not do it again, pinkie swear.”

“I know it won’t, but I need you to know that I won’t, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Enjolras felt tears sting his eyes at hearing Grantaire’s voice breaking. He turned to Grantiare and curled his fingers in his hair, resting his forehead on his. “I’m sorry too,” he whispered. “Sorry for yelling at you, sorry for being an ass when you were trying to apologize.” He straightened and released the dark haired man, “time to face the music.”

“Can’t I stand beside you? I won’t say anything, just hold your hand. Please.”

\---

When they stood in front of the reporters, Grantaire took hold of Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras voice was calm and collected as he spun a remorseful lie of how they had come in possession of the bag, and that he had emptied it right away. Some tried to angle their questions at Grantaire, why he had bought it and so on, but he remained silent and still by Enjolras’ side. 

“Mr. MP, are you worried that this will affect your career?” 

“I wouldn’t be human if I said I hadn’t thought about it, because of course I have, but I hope it won’t, and if it does, well I will have to deal with it then.” 

“What about your relationship? Are there cracks in the foundation?” 

“My relationship is not a matter of public record, but no, there are no cracks in our foundation.” 

“Grantaire, you haven’t said a word, do you have anything to add?” 

Grantaire looked at Enjolras but Enjolras only shrugged, a silent ‘it’s up to you’.

“I…I made a mistake, Enjolras had nothing to do with it and I am sorry. As to our relationship, he asked me to marry him yesterday,” There was a collective gasp from the reporters, “well, he pretty much asks me everyday, and I always turn him down. I don’t deserve a man like him, but still I have him, and it is a wonder to me everyday how he still wants me around.” 

“So you haven’t said yes?” 

“No, I haven’t, I told him I want to wait until I am at least thirty, I want to be single in my twenties.” He said the last part with a light chuckle. 

Enjolras rolled his eyes and sighed, “even though you’re not married it doesn’t mean you’re single.” There was a little aww from the reporters. 

“So basically you’ve accepted him, in the future.” 

“Oh no, he’ll have to ask me again, if he still wants me then.” 

A few of the reporters let out a little laugh. 

“If there is nothing else, we thank you for your time,” Enjolras interrupted and steered Grantaire towards a taxi. 

“Wait, Grantaire, one last question?” It was a new reporter, she hadn’t said a word before.

“Yes?”

“Is it just coincidence that you and Enjolras got back together now that he is an MP or are you looking for someone to support your art and drugs?”


	13. The reporter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intrusive reporter returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh so short and ending weirdly again, sorry (or not ;)).

“Alright, that’s enough!” Enjolras snapped at the reporter and almost shoved Grantaire into the taxi.

Grantaire was at a loss for words to that last question, and he hoped Enjolras didn’t start to think about it too much. He had never thought of the timing of their relationship, or their financial differences, before. 

Enjolras could feel the tension rolling off Grantaire. “This is what they do, they lull you into a false sense of security before they hit you with the scandal makers. Take no heed to that last one, she’s a snake.” 

“Do you know her?” 

“Yes, well, not really. She has interviewed me a few times, been around Westminster. But she’s never been so vicious before.” 

“I suppose if I had been the reporter, I would have been just as intrusive, she’s just trying to earn a pay check.”

“Well, she can do it without intruding on our lives.”

 

As Enjolras went about his day, Grantaire needed someone to talk to. Luckily, Jehan was on deck to handle his emotional turmoil.

He sank onto Jehan’s sofa with a thud and a sigh. “What if Enjolras thinks she’s right, what if he thinks I only took him back for his money?”

Jehan laughed softly, “Oh R, MP’s don’t make enough to attract gold diggers.” 

“It sure is a lot more than I make.” 

“R, he was the one who came after you, remember? He pursued you until you gave him another chance.” 

“Yes but still…”

“Still nothing. If Courfeyrac and I were to split up, and I suddenly became a best-selling novelist and begged him to take me back, and he realised he still loved me, I would never think it was because of my success, because I KNOW him. And Enjolras knows you, and he knows that’s not who you are.” 

“Maybe I should talk to him, just to be sure.” 

“Maybe you should, it’s only three, he should still be at the office right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Go!”

 

Enjolras was sitting at his desk writing e-mails when there was a knock on his door. Without thinking he called to come in. 

“Hard at work or hardly working, Mr. MP?”

Not who he was expecting. He turned around to face the visitor. “’Chetta, a pleasure as always. Not had enough of being a nuisance to society for one day?”

“Oh Enjolras, you know I take the juicy stories where I can find them.” She batted her long eyelashes at him in mock flirtation. 

“Stay away from Grantaire, he isn’t used to the limelight like I am.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, but me asking the question and you not answering, well, it gave me a great headline for the online paper. I had to go for it.”

“It upset my partner, and it greatly upset me to have someone question his character like that.” 

“You were answering questions regarding him buying drugs, how is questioning his character wrong?” 

“He is not some immoral thug like you try to paint him as!” 

“I’m sure he’s not, but…”

“But nothing! Don’t talk to him again, in fact, I will do my best to have you escorted from as many interviews as I can. There are consequences, Musichetta, even for you.” 

“Ah Enjolras, don’t you love me anymore.” She teased, sitting on the corner of his desk and leaning towards him in his chair. 

It was then that Grantaire walked in.


	14. Joly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musichetta reveals what she really wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The follow up to the previous chapter, they were supposed to be one, but I didn't think I would post this today, and I wanted to post something, so here's double posts today!

“Excuse me? Who are you?” Grantaire was seeing red, was this woman seriously throwing herself at his boyfriend, in his office?

She spun around, obviously startled, and Grantaire could see the ‘oh no’ forming in Enjolras’ mind. She extended her hand towards him and flashed a bright smile, her dark eyes shining. “Musichetta, pleased to officially meet you Grantaire.” 

He reluctantly shook the woman’s hand, but didn’t respond, only sent a questioning look to Enjolras. “What is she doing in your office? Or should I say, ON your office?” He eyed the desk she had just vacated. 

“Musichetta came to…well actually I don’t know what she came to do.” Both men turned to the woman. 

“Well, actually I came to ask Enjolras something. I was at the emergency room yesterday and I met this incredibly cute doctor. When I was done, I went to thank him but he was on the phone, and addressed the person he was speaking to as Enjolras.” She stopped to see if there would be any reaction. 

“And?” Enjolras urged on. 

“And, I assumed that the Enjolras he was speaking to was you, considering you are the only man in the London area with that name.”

“How did you know that?”

“I didn’t, I looked it up. Anyway, I was going to ask you for his phone number, but considering how this day has gone, I assume I can forget that.”

“Is she talking about Joly?” Grantaire asked Enjolras. 

“Yes, he is the only doctor I have been speaking to, so I would wager that to be an accurate guess.” 

“Please, look, I promise not to bug you with naughty questions anymore if you give me his number.”

“What would you say if you did get it? Hey, I’m that one girl in a thousand that come to your emergency room and I want to fuck you like you never have been fucked before?”

“Well, yes something like that.” 

“’Chetta, I think I know you well enough to say this, Joly isn’t for you. He’s sensitive, and caring. He isn’t some wild party animal like you.”

“Maybe I like sensitive and caring.”

“You like to rip sensitive and caring apart, as we’ve seen.” 

“I’m sorry, could I just interject here? What exactly was going on in here when I walked in?”

Musichetta patted Grantaire on the shoulder, “nothing darling, I was just trying to butter Enjolras up a bit, but it doesn’t work on him, I should have known.” 

“How long exactly have you two known each other?”

“Oh, since he moved here and became my favourite target. He’s always so nice about it, but now that I attacked you, well. He’s like a tiger isn’t he? Protecting his mate, it’s so cute I could barf.”

“And you wonder why I don’t want you around Joly…” 

“Come on Apollo, she’s not so bad, give her his number and he can decide for himself.” 

“Apollo? That is just precious!” 

“Breathe a word in your little tabloid and you can forget about Joly.” 

“Hey, no worries, scouts honour.” She did a little gesture with her hand and then turned her pleading eyes on Grantaire. 

“So Grantaire, I’m sorry about that last question, think you could forgive me?” 

“Maybe, if you buy dinner.” 

“Deal!”


	15. The movie night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gather at E/R's place for a movie night, and Musichetta meets Joly again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post today, as promised, a little longer than the ones yesterday, but not very long anyway, I will try to better myself. ;)

Joly had just gotten out of his shower when the phone rang. Bousset wasn’t home so he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and went in search of the ringing monstrosity of a germ farm. 

“Hello?”

“Hiya doc, it’s Grantaire.” 

“Hi R, what’s up?” 

“Just checking to see if you’re free tonight, Enjy and I were thinking of having everyone over for dinner, well, takeout, and a movie or something.” 

“Um, yeah, I’ll check with Bossuet but I’m free.”

“Great, see you then!”

\---

“So? Is he coming?” Musichetta wasn’t great at being patient.

“Yes of course he’s coming, otherwise I wouldn’t have said great, would I?”

She gently wacked him over the head with her hand, “don’t be a smartass.” 

“You could have called him yourself then.”

“No, Enjolras was right, it would have just been weird, better we meet at your place. Who else is coming?” 

“I don’t know, but usually mostly all show up at one point or another, Joly was going to check with his roomie Bossuet. Jehan and Courf will def be there, probably Cosette and Marius as well, and Eponine. We’ll see if Bahorel and Feuilly show up. Combeferre has been busy lately but he’ll probably come too.”

“Damn you have a lot of friends! How do you keep in touch with them all?”

“Just like this, we invite them all over every once in a while, or we just see each other one on one now and again. We usually gravitate towards one another in the end.”

“I’m guessing if I want a chance with Joly I’ll have to play nice with everyone then?”

“Especially with Bossuet, him and Joly are best friends, they are almost never apart except when they work, or sleep.” 

“I’ll be my most charming self.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine like you are, and trust me, at least Eponine will love you, you two will have a lot in common I think.” 

“You know something R? I really like you, and I am genuinely sorry for that stuff I said and wrote.”

“You are forgiven, just don’t do it again.” 

\-----

 

Marius:   
Hey, heard about the thing at  
E/R’s place tonight? Going? 

Cosette<3:  
Yeah, R texted me, apparently  
Joly has an admirer. Should be   
fun ;) 

Marius:  
Really? :D  
Can I pick you up on the way?   
Say six-ish? 

Cosette<3:  
I’ll see you then x

Marius:  
What does ‘x’ mean?

Cosette<3:  
I’ll let you know later x

\-----

“So, should we tell Joly? Or just let ‘Chetta flirt him senseless?” 

“You worry too much Apollo, Joly isn’t a child, he can handle himself against one woman.”

“I don’t know, Musichetta is, as you’ve seen, a lot of woman to handle.” 

“He’ll be fine, it’s not like she’ll attack him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure…” 

“Relax love, and get rid of that tie for goodness sake.” 

“Make me.”

“Ooh, you didn’t…”

“Come on R, take it off of me.” 

“Gladly.”

When they emerged from the bedroom it was almost six and people would be arriving soon. Grantaire got on the phone to order Indian and Thai while Enjolras cued up the movie and set out the cutlery. 

“Did the two of you just have sex? I can smell the sex from outside.” Courfeyrac entered the flat without announcing himself and shortly followed by Jehan, who had left something in the car. 

“Yes.” Grantaire answered while Enjolras blushed slightly and said “no.” 

“I’m going to trust Grantaire on this one E.” He winked at the blonde and patted his shoulder.

Jehan pulled Grantaire slightly aside while Combeferre helped Enjolras with setting out dishes. 

“So I take it things went well this afternoon?”

“It did yes, and I’ve made us a new friend.” 

“Have you? Who pray tell is this new friend?”

“That bitch of a reporter. As it turns out, she’s not so bitchy after all.”

“Who’d have thought?”

“I know, and another thing, she has this huge thing for Joly.” 

“And how exactly does she know Joly? Does everyone know everyone in this damn city?” 

“What’s with you? Apparently Joly treated her for something or other at the hospital and she thought he was cute.” Grantaire relayed the whole story and he could see the matchmaking plans forming in Jehan’s mind. 

“This should be an interesting evening.” 

“Here’s to hoping,” they clinked their wineglasses together and both took a deep gulp. 

\----

When everyone had arrived and the food was distributed, they hit play on the movie, giving everyone the chance to either focus on that, or spy on the others. Although some were focused on completely other things. 

Musichetta were catching Joly’s eye every chance she got, and when he got up and went into the kitchen to refill his drink, she waited a minute and then went after. 

“Hey, could you grab me a coke?” She leaned against the kitchen counter while Joly rummaged around in the fridge. He almost hit his head on a shelf when she spoke, he was so startled by her sudden appearance. 

“Shit, sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“No, no it’s fine. Here.” He handed her the can and closed the refrigerator. He then turned to wash his hands under the faucet. 

“Dirty fridge?”

“No, eh, germs and stuff.” 

“Right, you’re a doctor, I bet you think about that stuff all the time, huh?”

“Uh, yes right, that’s it.” 

“So, you didn’t bring your girlfriend with you tonight?” 

“Oh I don’t have a girlfriend, but I brought Bossuet, I like to think he counts sometimes.”

“You’re gay? Sorry I just, I didn’t realise, and I can usually tell these things.” 

“What? No, not gay, well, to me it’s the person that matters not the gender, but I just always thought of myself as straight. Bossuet is my best friend, we live together.” 

“So you’re single then?”

“Yeah, why?” He was mixing ice tea and not really paying much more attention to the conversation now that they had established he’s not gay. 

“Oh come on, I like you Joly, but I can tell you don’t remember me.”

“Have we met before?”

“Yes, actually, just yesterday, I came in to the emergency room with a cut on my leg and you sewed it up for me, but some other guy had to finish it because you got a phone call.” 

“Oh, yes I remember now, hi again! Hope your leg feels better.” 

“Oh it does.” She edged closer to him, running her fingers through her long brown hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. “It really does.”


	16. Little talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorts of different pairs talking during movie night.

Cosette nudged Marius’ shoulder and inclined her head towards the kitchen. “Think they’re going at it in there?” 

“Cosette!”

“Oh don’t be such a prude Marius, I’m only joking. But she seems nice though, I think she’d be good for Joly, he needs to get out more.”

“No he doesn’t, he gets out just fine.” 

“With Bossuet and Feuilly maybe, I’m talking about with girls.” 

“Maybe he doesn’t like girls?”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, he’s just never had much of a relationship other than with Bossuet, so it gets you thinking sometimes…” 

“Yeah, those two need to get separate friends.”

“Just like the rest of us then?”

“Yep, just like.” 

\----------------

“Do you think we need to go and save Joly?” Enjolras threw worried glances towards the kitchen. 

“Don’t you dare, how would you feel if someone had come to “save” me when you were stalking me before?” 

“I wasn’t stalking you, and besides that’s different, we used to have a relationship, they’ve met once he doesn’t even remember her from what I can tell.” 

“You were kind of stalking me, and I am sure that she is quite capable of reminding him of who she is.” Grantaire placed a soft kiss on the corner of Enjolras’ mouth. “You are so cute when you worry about our friends.” 

“Do we count as one person now? With “our” friends instead of yours and mine?”

“Might as well, are you leaving me? No. Am I leaving you? No. So we might as well count as one entity I think.” He smirked at the blonde. 

“One entity that lives in two different flats on either side of town.” Enjolras flashed a suggestive smile. 

“What are you saying, sir?”

“If you can’t tell what I am saying I should probably not be saying it.” 

“Of course I can tell, I just want to hear you say it out loud.”

“I want us to at least live together Grantaire, and I don’t care where, we can live here or in your building, though not with Eponine, I want you for myself.” 

“I can’t move out until Eponine gets another roommate, I can’t stick her with all the rent, but when she has, I’m all yours.”

“Good, so where do you want to live?”

“Well, you’ve just gotten your flat, its nice and new so I think it will do fine for now, everyone already calls it E/R’s place, so it might as well be.” 

“Alright. So how quickly can you find another roommate for Ep?” 

“Easy there tiger, we’ll find one in due time.” 

\-------------

Eponine was sitting with her feet over the edge of the sofa and leaning her back against Combeferre, his arm draped across her stomach. Her phone buzzed for the tenth time that night and she glanced at it and put it away again.

“Maybe you should answer them.” Combeferre couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. 

“No, it is nothing, just some friends bugging me.” 

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

“Eponine…”

“It’s really nothing, just leave it.”

The phone buzzes again and Combeferre snatches it from her. He reads the first three texts, from someone named Babet. 

Babet:  
Come on sweet cheeks,   
Come out have a little fun.

Babet:  
Don’t ignore me Ep,   
You know I don’t like it.

Babet:  
Are you with that   
pretty boy? You know  
he can’t do you like I can. 

Eponine snatches it back, “give that back!” 

“Is he talking about me? Am I the ‘pretty boy’?”

“I would assume so.” 

“Who is he?”

“Just an ex, he thinks we’ll get back together.” 

“You must have been speaking with him recently if he knows about me.”

“Yeah, well we just broke up after I started seeing you more.”

“So you’ve been seeing us both?”

“No, I said I broke up with him.”

“Yes, after you had been seeing me.”

“It’s not like we were exclusive from the first second.”

“Yes it was! I wasn’t seeing anyone else, shit Eponine, when you’ve sorted your mess out, maybe we can talk.” 

\-------------

“Oh…I guess we can rule out Eponine and Combeferre living together.”

“Damn, I need to go and talk to her.” Eponine had gotten up and walked out for a smoke, Grantaire followed. 

“Hey Ep, wait up,” he jogged down the stairs and joined her outside. “What happened in there?”

“’Ferre thinks I cheated on him.”

“Well did you?”

“No, I was dating this guy, Babet, when I met Combeferre, but I broke up with him when it started to get more serious with ‘Ferre. But he seems to think I should have been single from the moment we met.”

“How come you had it out now?” 

“Babet kept texting me so ‘Ferre took my phone and read the texts.” 

“Ah, and now he’s pissed?”

“Pretty much.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about Ep, he’s pissed because he likes you, and I assume he doesn’t want to share. Let him stew in it for a while and see what happens. I bet it’s just his ego that’s been bruised.” 

“I don’t know, the good thing about Combeferre is that he isn’t so full of himself, he’s a nice, relaxed sort of guy, just really great and I didn’t really think that he really thought of us so seriously…”

“Well, I do.” Combeferre closed the door behind him and joined the two outside. 

“I’ll just leave you to it.” Grantaire put out his joint and went back inside. 

“I really like you Eponine, this just took me by surprise, I didn’t mean to sound so…”

“Angry?”

“Jealous. And angry, I suppose.” 

“I don’t know why he’s still texting me, I have told him to give it a rest, but he figures himself a god or something, him and Montparnasse are friends, if that helps give a picture.”

“Grantaire’s ex? Isn’t he into drugs and shit?”

“Yep, he is, so is Babet, well they’re not meth heads or anything, but they deal some shit and stuff.”

“And you?”

“I left that scene, Grantaire still does weed I think, but I only smoke sometimes when I’m stressed.” 

“Right, so it’s completely over with this Babet fellow?” 

“So over.” 

“Good, then maybe we should head back in, I don’t want to miss it if Joly faints from being flirted with.” 

“Me neither.” She smiled at him and he took her hand as they walked back inside.


	17. Singulare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am very very very sorry that it has been almost a year (!) since the last update, and that this one is so short and pretty much plotless. I am studying for a big final and writing my bachelor thesis so really I don't have time to write anything, but after four hours straight of economics I needed a break, and what better than to dust this old thing off eh? Hopefully I will finish it this summer. 
> 
> Oh also, Joly sometimes calls Bossuet = Lesgle, just to clear up any confusion.

Joly wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. Musichetta had him cornered in the kitchen, and he was getting claustrophobic. “Good…good, I eh, I’m glad your leg is better.” 

“Would you mind doing a quick…follow up exam?” Musichetta slowly pulled her long skirt up by the hem, uncovering her calf, and then the outside of her thigh. Joly was about to have a mild panic attack. “Relax…you look ready to burst, I don’t bite…much.” She let her skirt back down and reached over to caress his cheek and neck. “You are too pretty to stress so much Joly.” 

“I…um, I think we should go back out to the others.” Joly managed to say.

Musichetta was a little disappointed that her usual tricks hadn’t worked on the good doctor, but she wasn’t finished. “Yeah, sure.” They left the kitchen and Joly rejoined Bossuet, while Musichetta sat down by R and Enjolras. 

“Your friend is a little special, isn’t he?” She leaned over to Grantaire. 

“He is, but he isn’t for you if all you want is something superficial, Joly is strong, but trusting. He will not understand that all you want is a fling unless you tell him so.” 

“I honestly don’t think he is interested in me. Are you guys sure he isn’t gay? I mean, with Bossuet…” 

“Well, not 100% sure,” Enjy interjected, “but pretty sure. He has never had a boyfriend at least.”

“Well, neither had Courf until he met Jehan.” Grantaire reminded him. 

“Still, if they were a thing, I think we would know, don’t you?” 

“Maybe he isn’t one or the other, anyway, I don’t think he is very impressed with our resident reporter.”

“How does it feel to finally be rejected ‘Chetta?” Enjolras smirked. 

“I’m not rejected yet, it takes more than that to dissuade me from something I want.” 

“I bid you good luck my lady.” Grantaire kissed her hand with a small bow. 

“Thank you kindly, dear sir, it seems to be much needed.” 

 

Joly hadn’t said a word to Bossuet since he came back from the kitchen. He just sat and threw glances towards Enj and R, now joined by Musichetta. She made him feel unsettled, and he didn’t like it. He did not wish to add to his social calendar, already filled with more than he cared for. 

Bossuet gave him a questioning look, but Joly just shook his head slightly while shrugging his shoulders in “I don’t even know”. 

“She’s hot.” He noted. 

“Too much, all to much.” Joly’s breathing had slowed, but he was still a little anxious. 

“Too much what? Hotness?”

“Too much everything. I am happy the way I am thank you.”

“Celibate you mean.”

“And happy.”

“Whatever you say. I would tap that quicker than you could say ‘sanitizer’.” 

“Don’t be so crude Lesgle, besides, you’d probably break or pull something. Why does everyone have to be with someone? Some of us are happy to be single. Me included.”

”It’s just fun to watch.”

”Everyone seems to be a thing now, Enj and Grantaire, Ep and ’Ferre, Jehan and Courf, Cosette and Marius…” He stopped and counted the group. ”The only ones left are you, me, Feuilly and Bahorel.”

”And Chetta.” 

”Still makes 8/13 in a relationship within the group, a majority.”

”Mhmm, it also means some of us need to look outside of the group if we want to find someone, and chetta just did that for you, but no, you’re not interested.”

”Give it a rest, Lesgle.” 

Bossuet held up his hands in surrender. ”Fine, fine, I give up on you Joly, you old spinster.”

 

When Eponine and Combeferre came back inside, Eponine went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and Grantaire followed. ”Everything hunky dory there Ep?” 

She just smiled, ”just fine R, I just need to figure out how to get rid of Babet for good, he just keeps on pestering me. It’s no good if I’m going to make it work with ’Ferre.” 

”Do you want him to meet with a sticky end?” Grantaire put on his best gangster voice, but didn’t quite sound believable. 

Eponine laughed but shook her head. ”Nah, I’ll figure out a way to deal with it. In the mean time, we might want to up security on the door, you never know with this old place. 

”Yeah... listen, about apartments, Enjolras wants me to move in with him, here, at his place.”

Eponines face lit up with joy. ”About time! You two shouldn’t be apart any more than you have to in my opinion.” She gave him a long and heartfelt hug, a little longer than the norm, they both needed it.

”Thanks Ep, for understanding. But I won’t move until you have a roommate ready to move in. I’m thinking it’s a bit too soon to ask Combeferre?”

”Yeah, probably. But not to worry, I’ll find someone!”

”We’ll find someone” Grantaire corrected her. 

 

When the group had left for their respective apartments and houses after three movies, only Enjolras and Grantaire were left in their flat. They stayed sprawled out on the sofa for another half hour, until Enjolras could feel Grantaire dozing off in his arms, and nudged him awake so they could move to the bed. Grantaire made a huffing sound but moved slowly into the other room. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, let me know what you think so far :)


End file.
